


All 4 You

by AbusiveLittleBun



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Breakfast on Pluto (2005), Inception (2010), Peaky Blinders (TV), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Trans Character, Cheating, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Face Slapping, Fluff, Groping, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Meet the Family, Mentions of Violence, Mistaken Identity, Name-Calling, Oral Sex, Physical Abuse, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Size Kink, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, graphic description of violence, non graphic description of underage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 42,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24721234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbusiveLittleBun/pseuds/AbusiveLittleBun
Summary: Alfie pays Tommy a surprise visit in Birmingham, but what he didn't expect is meeting his twin brother instead. Or his other twin brother. Or the other one. Chaos ensues.
Relationships: Bane/Jonathan Crane, Eames/Robert Fischer, Eddie Brock/Kitten, Jonathan Crane/Bruce Wayne, Luca Changretta/Robert Fischer, Robert Fischer/Saito, Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 87
Kudos: 101





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this wacko idea for an AU where Tommy has three twin brothers with wildly different personalities; Robert (Fischer from Inception), Jonathan (Crane from Batman Begins), and Patrick aka Kitten (from Breakfast on Pluto). This came to me after consuming all Tom Hardy/Cillian Murphy smut content available and marveled at the possibilities of them being shippable in so many ways even with different personalities. I really hope you enjoy it the way I enjoyed writing it :D
> 
> Also this whole fic's theme song would be 12345SEX by UPSAHL! Go check it out it really gives the mood and each line could represent one of the boys ;)

Paying Thomas Shelby a surprise visit to his shithole of a town may not have been Alfie's most rational idea to date, but if anyone asks, he's not the most rational man.

And why has he made this irrational decision? Because it has been two bloody weeks since he last had his cock buried in the little gypsy cunt, that's why. He knows he should not be so affected by his new little business partner who stumbled a couple of months ago into his life, all bruised and bloody and so fucking sure of himself, but hey, no one warned him that Tommy would be so gorgeous that Alfie lost what little sanity he still had to make the deal and keep the little blue-eyed devil around. 

Two months ago he could not possibly take it anymore that this man was across his desk, instead of being bent over it, and propositioned to Tommy for the first time, who wanted to get a bigger cut from a new arrangement, the cheeky little bastard.

"I do believe, Mr. Solomons, that such liberties are a must considering the risk my men must take to keep your delivery safe. You are known to have more than a few enemies that might find the delivery an ideal time for a hit. Leaving my men vulnerable in the crossfire. Therefore it is only natural for them to have fair compensation, wouldn't you say?"

Tommy was idly smoking as he talked, leaned back against his chair in front of Solomons, crossing his legs slowly, almost making a show of it. His brilliant blue eyes were hooded, long lashes kissing his cheek with each slow blink, cheekbones sharp enough that if Alfie touched, he'd surely get cut on them, impossibly full pink lips forming a gentle loose o as he blew the smoke out, and then wetting them with a dart of his sinful tongue.

There was no possible way that this clever boy had no idea what he was doing to him, it was definitely on purpose.

To be fair, Alfie didn't necessarily try to hide his attraction, looking at him as a predator would at their exceptionally tasty prey, taking every chance to touch him; leading him to his office when Tommy came to visit with a large hand pressed firmly against the small of his back, maybe dipping even lower as he rambled on, seemingly paying his movements no attention until they reached the door, drawing his hand back just to give a small slap to Tommy's butt to usher him in, and repeated the motion when Tommy would take his leave. The poor boy would barely glare at him and instead try to hide his faint blush behind his cap.

Alfie also did pointedly not refer to him as Mr. Shelby but either by his given name or a pet name like 'sweetheart', 'doll', 'darling', 'love', 'treacle', 'sweetie', and even one time as 'baby boy', which earned him a lovely crimson flush that Tommy failed to hide behind his elegant fingers. Nevertheless, not even once did he receive any complaints, which could have been excused with politeness, but Alfie knew better. Tommy enjoyed it.

"Now, now, sweetie, I did not just hear that petty mouth ask for an extra 30% cut when I'm already generously not kicking his lovely bottom to the curb, right? The only way I would even consider your silly little request would be if you said it on your knees while sucking my cock, you stupid little boy."

Alfie thought that would finally make Tommy draw back from the idea and finally shut up, instead, the pretty thing only raised an elegant brow, stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, rounded Alfie's desk, and gracefully kneeled in front of him all the while maintaining eye contact. Alfie felt the air leave him and all of his blood rush south when Tommy reached for his belt buckle and leaned forward.

"Um, Tommy doll, would you please be a dear, right, and explain to me what the fuck you think you're doing?" 

Tommy barely paused his ministrations of fishing Alfie's already half-hard cock out to give him a barely-there smirk, his eyes glistening with lust and cheekbones sporting a rosy blush.

"Getting my 30%, Mr. Solomons, or would you rather I stop?" he finished with a soft caress to the fabric imprisoning Alfie's erection. 

Alfie felt almost faint from how little of his blood flow reached his brain at that moment.

"Nah, mate, by all means, do carry on, don't mind me, yeah, fucking hell." 

Tommy wasted no time in complying and finally, fucking finally, pulled his erection out fully and gave an appreciative hum. He seemed enchanted with Alfie's cock for a few seconds, looking at it as if it was made out of gold, and yeah, he could admit that it was quite a crowd-pleasing size. 

Then Tommy licked a long wet stripe from the base to the tip and closed his lips around the head to give a gentle suck before he attempted to slowly bob down further on the length. His tongue never stopped working around it as if it was a particularly delicious candy that he put in his mouth.

So this is what heaven feels like, huh. Alfie put a hand in the long soft locks on top of Tommy's hair, carding his fingers through it and slowly down to the velvety buzzcut at the back of his head, scratching lightly with his nails. The motion made Tommy close his eyes, shudder and moan around his length, sending lovely vibrations to it.

Alfie noticed how Tommy didn't dare to go down a little further than halfway and that had to change now, didn't it, so Alfie used the hand occupied with caressing Tommy's skull to push him a bit further down with each bob, fastening the pace, making his business partner choke a bit at a harsher drag.

Tommy looked up with tear-stained cheeks and pulled back just enough to breathe a little over Alfie's now spit-slicked cock.

"Mr. Solomons," good God, he sounded absolutely fucked out, "Can I please get that 30%?" he finished with a kittenish lick to the head.

He looked so fucking wrecked. His big crystal blue eyes full of lust and shiny with fresh tears to join the streaks cutting across his flushed face, lips a brilliant red from usage, glistening with spit and pre-come as a perverted lipgloss, neatly combed hair now a mess from Alfie grabbing at it to pull him down... Fuck the picture got Alfie way too close to blowing his load there and then.

"Yes, fuck, yes, you're getting that bloody 30%, just fucking put that sweet fucking mouth back where it belongs, for fuck's bloody sake."

"What about 40%?" the dirty little slag had the nerve.

"Don't fucking push it, mate..." Alfie growled.

Tommy hummed and wrapped his lips back around his cock, hollowing his cheeks and giving a torturous suck, but moved no further as he kept the eye-contact.

Alfie groaned harshly "Alright, alright, let's say 33%, you fucking little slut. And that is my last bloody offer, no further. Take it or leave it, fuck."

Tommy gave another lovely vibrating moan and slid even further than before and before Alfie could catch his breath, Tommy was deepthroating him in earnest, slobbering all over him like a well-trained whore, making Solomons roar in pleasure and grip the now fucked up mop of hair on top of his head and buck his hips up to fuck into the delicious wet heat roughly.

With a pace like that it didn't take long for Alfie to reach his orgasm. He forcefully pulled Tommy all the way down, pushing his nose into his coarse pubic hair, making him whine and choke on the length, and came down his throat, not letting up until he properly rid out the last remnants of it, keeping Tommy there with a merciless grasp.

When he finally pulled back and slumped back into his chair, Tommy leaned back and coughed a few times and breathed harshly. He looked a right fucking mess. It was so beautiful it made Alfie's spent cock give an appreciative but painful twitch.

Tommy cleared his throat after a few seconds but still sounded completely wrecked when he said "It was a pleasure, doing business with you, Mr. Solomons. Thank you for the 33%."

Alfie laughed at that and brushed his hand over his sweaty face, stroking his beard. 

"Yeah, well enjoy it, treacle, you deserve it, don't ya, working so hard for it." He paused and gave Tommy a curious smirk, "Do you use that pretty mouth on every other business associate as well, treacle? That'd explain how you climbed so swiftly out of the gutter."

Tommy returned the smirk with mischief in those bewitching eyes.

"Oh, no Mr. Solomons, you are special in the matter, I can assure you." he helped himself up with a hand steadying himself on Alfie's knee, "Besides, it was no trouble, as this has been a fantasy of mine for quite some time now, using the deal was a beneficial excuse, otherwise I would have done it for completely free."

Alfie's smirk dropped in that moment and so did his eyes to Tommy's crotch that sported a tell-tale wet spot. Tommy came into his pants untouched, from sucking Alfie off. He played him like a fiddle this whole time.

Alfie burst out laughing.

From then on they had an arrangement that after each meeting or instead of it, Tommy got to either suck him off or Alfie got to bend him over the desk and fuck his perfect ass, keeping their business mutually pleasing. Alfie had no idea that under that cold facade Tommy would think about the same dirty fantasies as him, or would enjoy the whole affair just as much. It turned him on more than anything.

And that is why Alfie could no longer contain himself until Tommy found another empty excuse to visit him in Camden to get properly fucked, and decided on a surprise visit. No one else had such an effect on him ever before. 

He sighed as he roamed the streets of Birmingham, he knew Tommy's address in theory but finding it was a bit more difficult then he expected, with all of the streets looking somewhat the same. He got out of his car only a few minutes prior, telling the driver to stay put, he needed to stretch his fucking legs after a drive that long.

He turned to a somewhat cleaner street with more respectful shops than the ones he saw prior in the town. Yeah, Tommy seemed to fit in more here, with his fancy street rat style. Just as he mused the thought he looked to the other side of the street where a tailor shop stood, and in front of it stood a slender well-dressed young man. Alfie admired the tiny waist and long legs leading to round bottom hugged perfectly by his slacks. Maybe Birmingham wasn't so bad after all if boys like that littered the streets. He squinted a bit to focus his vision on the elegant stranger's face and stopped dead in his tracks.

It was Tommy. There's no mistake, it was his ethereal face with the perfect pink mouth, the enchanting blue eyes framed by long lashes, the sharp prominent cheekbones dusted with light freckles. But his hair was different. No signs of the peach fuzz sides, it was full, longer, and luscious all around and neatly combed, and instead of crow black, it shined in a dark chocolate brown.

When and how did Tommy manage to change his hair so drastically? What the hell? But there was no mistake, he had the exact same face. 

By now Alfie was blatantly staring, and since there barely was anyone on the street 'Tommy' noticed that someone was watching him. He looked up at Alfie with wide eyes, held his gaze for a while, then gave his whole figure a shy once-over, and it was easy to notice the faint pink tint on his pale cheeks, it always was, before turning back to the display of the tailor shop as if Alfie was a stranger just checking him out, and not his business partner who's been giving him good regular dickings for the past two months.

It threw Alfie a bit off, but oh well, he did not warn him beforehand of his arrival, and who knows, maybe he felt embarrassed by Alfie seeing his new hairstyle.

He slowly sauntered up to 'Tommy' who was still turned away from him and gave his ass a firm slap as he did so many times before it almost felt like a tradition by now, only now 'Tommy' flinched and froze with wide eyes turning towards him, but Alfie just leaned over his shoulder to whisper hotly in his ear and kept his hand planted on the lovely butt in front of him.

"Love the hair, treacle, makes me want to grab onto it while you're taking my cock and pull you back with it. What do you say, wanna come home with me, sweetie?" he finished with a small kiss to the side of his long pale neck that smelled like an expensive cologne that seemed to flush wildly at the words together with his face.

'Tommy' looked manic and released a small whimper as if Alfie hasn't said much dirtier things to him all those times before. He quickly stormed away, muttering an embarrassed "Excuse me", his cheeks a lovely shade of red, as he cornered the alleyway leading away from the street.

Oh. Maybe Alfie went a bit too far? Groping him on a deserted street was too much? Oh well, he sighed and went after 'Tommy' to apologize. But just as he turns the corner a smaller figure comes stumbling right into him. As Alfie draws back and is about to tell the man to fuck off, he notices that the man is actually 'Tommy' again.

But now he's wearing glasses. And his hair seems... a bit even longer than before... and leaning more towards a chestnut brown? He must be imagining things.

'Tommy' looks taken aback for a moment then gives him a once-over again as if he didn't just get a good look not three minutes before. Then a slow polite smile stretches across his face and that hits Alfie like a goddamn train. Tommy? With a polite smile? With a people-pleasing, how was your day, is your mother well, good boy asking for donations smile? Did the world turn on its head?

Tommy doesn't smile, he sometimes smirks in his own cocksure arrogant way to show he's ahead of everyone else and when Alfie's lucky he will hide a small curve of the corner of his lips behind his hand when Alfie says something absolutely filthy and inappropriate that would make any whore blush. But now he smiles as if it's the most natural thing.

There's a mischievous glint in his eye and he wets his lips with a coy drag of his tongue before softly speaking.

"Oh, I'm truly sorry-" but before he could finish Alfie interrupts with holding a hand up, because fuck, this day is pretty strange but he still was a bit rude and made 'Tommy' storm off and he gotta make it right, it has been too long since his cock was in Tommy and he's about ready to take him here in the alley, but he needs his lover to comply to that first.

"No, love, I'm sorry. Forcing myself on you like that in public, you have every right to be angry. I respect your boundaries, I shouldn't have been so rude."

'Tommy's eyes widened at that behind the rim of his glasses, and the open-mouthed smile just widens as he studies Alfie's face with great interest as if he was some new specimen. Alfie just heaves a tired sigh and drags a hand over his face as he continues.

"It's just... It's been too long. And I really want to fuck you. Not just now but all the time. You're intoxicating. And fuck, I really want to pull on that lovely hair of yours as I draw you down on my dick."

As he finished Alfie realized that what he just said was not even remotely better then what sent 'Tommy' earlier running. Oh for fuck's sake.

But 'Tommy' now only gave an amused hum with half-lidded eyes and tilted his head to the side as if he tried to decipher Alfie's sentence. 

"Oh please, don't be sorry about that at all. We all have desires, it's completely natural. And well, desire fuels fear. Everything leads back to fear." He gracefully took the glasses off and tucked them into his breast pocket and continued in a seductive tone as he pressed closer to Alfie. "So do you want to pull on my hair now too? While you draw me down on your dick?" He circled his slim arms around Alfie's shoulder and his face was now so close that his breath ghosted over Alfie's lips. He smelled like mint, citrus, and something medical instead of the usual cigarettes, whiskey, and hay. "Are you not afraid of what would happen if someone saw? Aren't you afraid of me being uninterested? Or me screaming for help? Or fighting back? Aren't you afraid?"

Well, 'Tommy' was certainly in a chatty mood. What the fuck was this monologue about fear? Alfie put a heavy hand on the small of 'Tommy's back and led him back to the wall to press himself firmly against his partner. 

"Well, first of all, sweetie, yes I do want to, second of all who gives a fuck about anybody else, third of all the way you're acting right now, right, all rubbing against me like a bitch in heat, yeah, does not indicate any fucking disinterest now does it? And you'd never, in this life, scream for help because of your overly large ego, love, and last but not least, you know I like a bit of struggle every now and then, so go ahead, but we both know very well that I could lay you flat like a pancake any time, yeah? All bird-boned, baby-faced beauty you are, darling."

As Alfie was giving his response he made quick work of 'Tommy's pants and pushed them down just enough and turned him around to face the wall and pulled on his hips to curve his back just right, because now Alfie was too horny and fucking Tommy in a dirty alleyway was always on his bucket list.

'Tommy' did nothing to show any reluctance or even remote struggle. He only kept smiling amusedly and spoke in a mock innocent tone that somehow unnerved Alfie more than he thought it could.

"Fascinating. And aren't you afraid of what my husband might do if he saw you pulling my hair to draw me back onto your cock, fucking me in an alley, hm?"

That sentence stopped Alfie fucking dead in his tracks, just as he was about to pull his cock out and spit on 'Tommy's taint to ease the way.

Alfie frowned "Your fucking what now-" but before he could finish he was roughly pulled away from 'Tommy' by the lapels of his coat, large hands turning him to look at the huge fucking bald man in front of him, that could easily qualify as a giant if not a fucking tank with the size of those muscles, and shook him like a piggy bank, growling in a deep gravely tone.

"Hands off my property." And with that he threw Alfie all the way back to the street he came from as if he weighed no more than an apple core and not a grown man.

Alfie crashed onto the stone pretty hard, but could barely pay attention to his aching back, too occupied by his reeling thoughts. Tommy changed drastically, and had a husband? What the fuck was going on?

As he coughed on the ground, trying to catch his breath a slim figure crouched and leaned over him. A small gentle hand ghosted over his face and a worried soft feminine voice accompanied it.

"Oh you poor dear, are you alright? Can you hear me, handsome?"

As Alfie's vision cleared he finally could focus properly on the person above him. It was 'Tommy'. But somehow different again. Instead of his immaculate suit, he had a frilly, lacey dress on, one strap hanging low on his shoulder, exposing his collarbones. He smelled like cherry blossoms and honey. And his hair was an even lighter shade of chestnut, even longer than before, and in messy curly locks instead of the neatly combed style from before. And was that fucking mascara and lipstick on his face?

Alfie couldn't help himself and roughly grabbed at 'Tommy's hair, getting a fistful of sinfully soft locks, that, yeah, were definitely attached to 'Tommy's head by the way he whined at the rough treatment.

"Ow, please, that hurts, please, no need to be so mean, I'm sorry!" he sounded close to tears. He sounded like a little girl. Almost completely looked like one.

Alfie felt like he was going insane. There is no way that Tommy could change his appearance in a few moments like that. Or his personality.

Right then he heard a familiar cough right behind himself. He looked up. It was Tommy. His Tommy. Peach fuzz on the sides and neatly arranged black locks on top, perfect full lips pursed around a cigarette, icy stare ready to kill a man, posh suit. It truly was him.

"Mr. Solomons," and oh God, was Alfie glad to hear that deep, arrogant, cold tone, "would you please be so kind as to not harass my brothers any longer?"

And now he can see behind Tommy there's the first 'Tommy', that he approached today in front of the tailor shop. He still had the remnants of his earlier blush on his face as he looked down at Alfie.

He looked back at the curly-haired 'Tommy', who's chestnut locks he was still holding and quickly let go as if he got burned. He mewled and massaged his scalp and wiped away a tear from the corner of his painted eye with a neatly manicured hand.

"Did I go fucking looney?"

Alfie's question got answered by the 'Tommy' from the alleyway as he sauntered out, now dressed again, the glasses back on, with his fucking mammoth of a man close behind, who looked just about ready to finish what he started and break every one of Alfie's bones

"Considering the current circumstances I can assure you confusion is quite normal, but If you'd like I can give you an in-depth diagnosis-"

"Not fucking now, Jonathan." his Tommy snapped.

Alfie still sat on the ground, turning his head like an owl looking at all four 'Tommys' around himself. This must be some kind of hell. Or heaven? No, with Mr. Bald Muscle Giant over there ready to detach his head from his body it could not possibly be that even with four angels around him.

Tommy sighed and blew some smoke out with it and crouched down to be on eye-level with Alfie.

"I should probably have disclosed that I have more siblings besides Arthur and John. Specifically that I have a few twins, to avoid this kind of confusion." He nodded towards imposter number one, "When Robert here, told me that some strange fucking man with a beard groped him in broad daylight I came to investigate. I had no idea it was you, but I should have guessed." he motioned with his cigarette at imposter number two, "I see you have also had a chance to meet Jonathan and his dear husband who must have given you quite a warm welcome by the looks of it," and turned finally to imposter number three, "and Patrick over here-"

But he was cut off by girly whining "It's not Patrick, Tommy! It's Kitten now! Kitten!"

Tommy just rubbed his eyes and sighed "Yeah, sorry, Kitten over here was naive enough to try to scrape you off the ground, to probably take you home."

"He's quite a hunk Tommy, I'm sorry I didn't know he was yours!" Kitten chirped, looking back at Alfie with a flirtatious bite to his full lips and a finger to run down suggestively his chest "Besides, it's not like we couldn't share, no?"

Tommy gave Kitten an icy glare "No. None of that, Kitten."

Kitten whined again and clung to Alfie's shoulder as if he was an oversized teddy bear. "But Jonathan always shares, you're so mean, Tommy! So mean! Mommy always said sharing is caring!"

Tommy pried his fingers off Alfie's body and helped him off the ground. 

"Well, I don't care. Not now. And Mr. Solomons is a business partner, nothing more."

Robert's blush crept back out "Where do you get business partners who treat you like that? Just out of curiosity. Not like I want one or anything. Just recommend me a rich and lonely one."

Jonathan leaned back against his husband who put a possessive arm around him "Indeed, do all of your business partners tell you that they want to pull your hair while they draw you back on their dick and then try to fuck you in an alley?" the bald monster of man's arm tightened around Jonathan visibly.

Tommy gave Alfie a look that screamed 'Are you fucking kidding me?'.

"You did what now, Alfie?"

"I THOUGHT THEY WERE YOU!" Alfie shouted. He felt tired, confused, and his fucking back felt like it was run over by a truck.

"Oh so it's Alfie now instead of Mr. Solomons, is it? You were always a lousy liar Tommy." Jonathan purred while he seemed to be engulfed by his huge fucking husband's log-sized arms who still looked like he was actively trying not to just beat Alfie into a pulp.

"Shut the fuck up, Jonathan!" Tommy growled, then sighed again and turned towards Alfie again, "Look, I know, this is a mess, but let's just fucking forget, okay? Now let's go, I'll let you digest this somewhere else with dinner."

"Are you inviting him for dinner Tommy? It sounds like you are. Do you want me to cook something nice? What do you like to eat, Alfie, hm?" Kitten latched onto his arm again, looking up at him with a dreamy gaze. "I bet Tommy never cooked you something nice, did he? But lucky for you, I can be the perfect housewife! What do you say, sugar, would you marry me?"

Tommy looked about ready to kill a man as he snatched Alfie back by his other arm. "Kitten, I swear will throw your fucking makeup into the cut if you don't back off. I mean that. I mean every single word of that."

Robert tried to calm the situation by putting a calming hand on his brother's shoulder. "It's okay, I don't think it's a bad idea if your ... partner, business or not, gets to meet the family. I mean I don't think anybody would be against it. Is that alright with you, Mr. Solomons?" he still couldn't stop the embarrassed flush he got when looking at Alfie. It was endearing.

Alfie looked around. Jonathan seemingly wasn't able to wipe off the half-crazed smile or detach from his bald bear husband, Kitten looked hopeful and maybe a bit too eager, Tommy still looked pissed but lifted his brows as if daring him to run away.

This day was already insane enough, what could one family dinner with his business partner and sex buddy and his crazy twins who seemed to all want to ride Alfie into the sunset do to make it any weirder? Fuck it. He nodded.

"I reckon it's only right if I get to properly meet the family after that, right?"

Tommy really will be the death of him.


	2. Some call it insane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family gets to know Alfie a bit, both he, and Tommy want to desperately escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay update! Hope you enjoy this one as much as the previous chapter :)
> 
> Song inspiration to this one is maribou state - tongue

The small kitchen and dining room in the Shelby household seemed to be cramped and still comfortable at the same time as people rushed around and conversed loudly around Alfie.

Kitten was pouring tea into the cups on the table, in a rather loose pink camisole, making idle chatter with whoever was closest; Jonathan was caressing his husband's face and whispering calming words to the fucking beast; Robert politely talked to the rest of the family about the places he visited, Ada shouting her questions over her sibling.

Usually, Alfie Solomons could hardly shut up, always spinning some long-winded tale just about anything to anyone nearby or even alone to himself, silence just was not programmed into his system, he couldn't help it.

But right now the events of the day effectively stunned him into silence. He sat dumbly in a creaking old wooden chair at the table that seemed to be overfilled with old stains and cuts of various kinds, his arms resting on the uneven textured wood as he held unto a cup of tea with both hands as if he was some poor sod recovering from trauma.

It was almost hilarious as it reminded him of when he saw someone like that back in the war he hauled them back into position and slapped them around, shouting orders and telling them to not be a wuss and fight like a man. War be damned, its severity seemed to disappear next to the current events.

Tommy inhaled cigarettes one after the other, almost filling the ashtray completely all by himself, silently fuming and bouncing a leg under the table next to Alfie, jaw clenching tightly, glaring at each member of his family, mutely daring them to step out of line. At least Alfie wasn't the only one stressed to hell and back by the situation.

The wicked witch of the West aunt that Alfie heard a few times about seemed to be enjoying the situation, amusedly smoking and looking between him and Tommy as if their suffering was a well-written comedy.

The youngest brother, if Alfie heard correctly his name was Finn, tried to grill out the story of how Alfie got here in detail from a flustered Robert who could only stammer the vaguest information until the little boy was shooed back into his room by an understanding Ada who saw Tommy's face and almost as if they had some kind of telepathic connection tried to ease the air in the room.

After Finn was fed, his questions barely answered and sent to bed, the family seemed to turn on Alfie once more. Yeah, this visit was a mistake.

Arthur, who Alfie only knew before from various stories of how he had the temper of a mad dog, took up Finn's curiosity from earlier, and wouldn't stop asking what Alfie came for. He didn't seem to trust him even a little. The feeling was mutual.

"I've already told you, Arthur. He came to discuss business." Tommy grit out with an annoyed rub against his temple.

"But It's always you who goes to Camden for that. Why the change? And what does that business detail? We're part of the business as well, Tommy."

"Not this one. And Mr. Solomons was interested in our scenery."

That made Alfie involuntarily snort but quickly gathered himself when Tommy redirected the murderous glare to him.

"Yeah, mate it's really not that complicated. Just wanted to find the source of Tommy's lovely horseshit and gutter aroma. I grew quite fond of it." Tommy actually smelled lovely to him, even with the cigarette smoke and hay added to it, but Arthur didn't need to know that.

"Don't fucking talk about my little brother like that or I'll make you eat your fucking tongue!" Arthur seemed ready to lounge across the table if not held back by Kitten.

"Aw, Alfie bear was only joking, Arthur, he's quite a character that one!" he patted Arthur's shoulder and seemed to calm him quite effectively with a half hug, "But he sure is quite fond of Tommy alright."

"Kitten, shut your mouth." Tommy seethed,

"Don't be so cross with your brother, Thomas, he means no harm." Polly chided, ignoring how what she said made Kitten visibly flinch and hide against Arthur's neck, then turned towards Alfie, "Will you be staying in town, Mr. Solomons? After discussing... your business?"

She blew out the cigarette smoke through a not too subtle smirk. Did Alfie have a sign on his forehead reading "I'm fucking your nephew on a regular basis and currently very much want to leave to do it some more"?

"Yeah, I reckon it's late enough that I'd rather make the drive back to Camden in the morning. Which establishment would you say has the least amount of shit on the floor that I could spend the night in?"

Polly's expression didn't change but Arthur looked as if he was competing against Jonathan's war-hog husband on who could glare a hole through Alfie's skull first.

Speaking of the brute, he was sitting in the corner with a lapful of Tommy's wacko brother who was busy adjusting the mask on his face that looked ironically like a muzzle. Alfie was glad for the thing, God knows he might try to rip a limb off with his teeth if he was close enough.

His observation was interrupted by Kitten whining across the table "Ah, you must sleep here, silly! Why go anywhere else? You can stay in my bed if you'd like, I don't mind!" The cheeky little angel added with a wink.

"He most certainly will not." Tommy's icy facade was cracking by the minute.

John, who has been giving the family's guest the most peace by far, leaned back and mused around the toothpick in his mouth: 

"Well, to be honest, Tommy, Kitten might be right. I don't know of any hotel in Birmingham that I would recommend to anyone that is not an enemy."

"I'm sure Tommy wouldn't mind hosting Mr. Solomons in his room, they seem well acquainted," Jonathan added without looking up from his work on his man's headgear, "If how he treated me and Robby when he mistook us for Tommy was anything to go by."

The bald giant visibly tightened his hold on the slight frame in his lap. Arthur sat up and his alarmed gaze dashed around his brothers.

"What the fuck does Nat mean by that?" He turned to Robert who intently kept his eyes on his teacup as he flushed at the resurfacing memory, "Bobby, did he do something to you? If he did I swear to God-"

"Stop fucking shouting, Arthur, you'll wake Finn up, for fuck's sake!" Ada interrupted harshly.

Alfie put his hands up in defense "Nothing I didn't apologize for, right. I was in a right fucking state and didn't know better." He turned with grateful eyes to Ada, "And yeah, no, I get it, it's all brotherly protectiveness, innit, really can't blame him, but would love it if maybe I could drink my fucking tea without being crucified every other second."

"Do you have any brothers, Mr. Solomons?" Ada inquired, back to her chipper tone.

"As a matter of fact, I do, yeah. Two to be exact. Both a bit younger. And also an adopted little sister. Raised the little devil myself."

That made Tommy turn to him with the ice melted off in a second. He had no idea that Alfie had siblings. He didn't ask before and Alfie never talked about them. When they have time for their 'personal activities' they don't talk much about their lives. Which is a shame, Tommy liked spending time with the other man even when there was no sex involved. Alfie was a delightful company; funny, intelligent, and interesting. He wanted to get to know him. The realization frightened him more than he expected.

Ada didn't notice Tommy freezing up and carried on the chatter "Do you have a good relationship with them? You sound fond of your siblings."

Alfie cleared his throat, the mention of his family loosening the tension in his back "Yeah, well, I sure am, but it's been a while since I talked to any of them in person. My brothers went to America, and Esther is busy with university work."

"America? Robby and Nat just came back from there! Which state are they in?" Ada chimed, "Which university is Esther attending?"

Tommy felt unbearably uncomfortable. He never talked to Alfie about any of these things. He should have. He shouldn't be getting all this information together with his family for the first time. He wanted to make it more intimate, more personal. Like a couple.

Before Alfie could answer Tommy stood up, the screeching of the chair halting the conversation.

"Mr. Solomons came to talk business, Ada. So if you'd excuse us-"

"I'd rather he talk dirty." Kitten cheekily purred, while dangling his legs from where he was sitting on the counter. Robert was turning darker and darker shades of red as he looked up at the mentioned guest. He seemed to share the sentiment. Jonathan also turned his hungry gaze towards Alfie, not minding as his husband's bear paw-sized hand squeezed his thigh in warning. Yeah, an evacuation was in order or Alfie will be torn to shreds, one way or another.

Tommy just led Alfie out of the kitchen with a hand on his arm and without a word. Alfie could only see the back of Thomas' head from the way he was being dragged along but he could still take note of the flush on the ears in front of him. Tommy was flustered. How sweet.

They made their way to what must have been the Shelby's main workspace by the looks of it, and through that what Alfie registered as Tommy's office. His arm was still clutched tightly even after being shoved into the armchair behind the desk. He barely sat down as Tommy climbed into his lap and attacked his mouth ferociously.

Alfie hummed into the kiss contently, sliding his palms over the thighs straddling him until he had a firm grasp on the perfect ass they led to. That earned him a beautiful low moan. God, he missed this, insane family grilling him be damned, it was all worth it if this is the fruit of his emotional labor.

Tommy pulled back just enough to shrug out of his suit jacket together with his waistcoat, loosen his tie, pull it over his head, and make quick work on his shirt buttons with frantic movements.

"Want you. Now." How he could sound like a needy slut and an impatient sergeant major at the same time Alfie would never understand.

"Slow down, treacle, alright, I got you now." he chuckled as he leaned back to recapture Tommy's lips and help him drag the shirt off of his slender frame.

"Which university is your sister attending?" Tommy breathed between kisses, which made Alfie pause and blink in confusion.

"What?"

Tommy clumsily climbed out of his lap and rushed to unbutton his pants and take them off together with his underwear, leaving them in a messy heap on the floor and kicking his shoes off before reclaiming his previous spot in his lover's arms.

"Esther. Where does she study? And what?" he licked at Alfie's lips, "Does she like it? Are her grades good?"

Why was Tommy asking about his sister's academic career when he was fishing out his cock?

"You said you raised her. Was she a good child? When was she adopted? How old is she?" he was moaning as if he was giving a detailed description of how well he was gonna ride that dick in his grasp. 

Alfie grabbed Tommy by his shoulders and pulled him back "Stop for a second sweetheart, alright, and please be so kind as to explain, why in God's name are you asking me about my little sister when I'm about to shove my prick inside you? If this is a new method of foreplay, I've gotta be honest, it's not doing the trick on me."

Tommy gave a flustered noise and reached back into his desk drawer to retrieve a small jar, that probably contained oil.

"I just want to get to know my partner a little better," he unscrewed the cap and dipped his fingers in to coat them generously, "for, well, a more... ah, beneficial business relationship." He reached back to his own entrance as he said that.

Alfie gave an amused smirk as he took the jar from the other's hand, coating his fingers and batting away Tommy's hand from his hole. He loved opening him up.

"And the key to a beneficial business relationship is the knowledge if Esther likes art school or not, huh."

Tommy gasped against his mouth as a large slick finger breached him. "Ah, so it's an art school."

Alfie chuckled as he added a second finger a bit too quickly. It's been two weeks since they last fucked and he was already cockblocked by several family members on this torturous day. He was not in a patient mood.

"Do you also want to know her medical records and hobbies or can we go back to the good old 'I want to fuck you so hard that you'll be dripping with my seed for a week', hm?" he scissored his fingers and looked at Tommy with a raised brow.

Tommy tried and failed to bite back a moan at the delicious feeling of the fingers stretching him inside. God, Alfie always fingered him so good, it made him drool and lose his mind like an idiot.

"I don't know, ah, does she play any sports?" Tommy moaned with half-lidded eyes and a coy smile.

Alfie groaned and pulled his fingers out of the tight hole, grabbing Tommy by the waist, lifting him and swiftly laying him flat on the desk, making the smaller man gasp.

"You are trying my poor nerves real fucking hard, ya know, Thomas? Cocky little slut you are, bringing this old man misery when all he wants to do is give you some good quality dicking." He pulled Tommy flush to his crotch, spreading the slender legs around his waist further with rough hands, leaving the pale body exposed and naked on the desk.

Tommy bit his lip to hide the amused smile at the rough treatment "Then get on with it, old man."

Alfie needed no more words of encouragement and grabbed his neglected erection to press against the younger man's hole. The little shit never failed to turn him on. He pressed in achingly slowly, because fuck, maybe he should have taken a bit more time to stretch his ass out, he was tight as a vice. Tommy shrieked and threw his head back, his nails dragging down Alfie's still clothed back. Oh right, he didn't even take his suit jacket off, barely had his trousers unbuttoned enough for his cock to have access. Meanwhile, Tommy was stark naked except for his socks and garters. The realization just made him harder.

When Tommy stopped trying to shred his back into ribbons with his nails Alfie slammed his length in all the way in one brutal shove of his hips, his hands gripping the milky white thighs locked around his waist like a lifeline. It was too tight. It felt like heaven.

Tommy sure looked like he shared the sentiment by the way his eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a wordless cry, drool slipping past red bitten lips, his chest heaving like a fish out of water.

The picture made Alfie groan as he tried to hold back his release, which threatened to overtake him any moment now. "Fuck, look at you, baby, so fucking gorgeous you are, yeah, aren't ya, darling, I wish I could keep you on my cock forever, God knows you were made for it, made for my cock, Tommy, nothing else."

Tommy gave a loud desperate whine at that, back arching as he suddenly came all over his trembling flat tummy untouched. It was a breathtaking sight. He sounded and looked absolutely wrecked and Alfie barely shoved his whole length in. He was perfect.

Alfie chuckled, releasing one of the smaller man's legs that slumped limply and trembling over the desk. With his now free hand, he dragged his index and middle finger through the mess Tommy just made on his stomach, scooping up a generous amount of the creamy white substance and lifting it to the younger's parted heaving lips, coating them in a glossy shine with the release.

Tommy mewled weakly, sucking the digits clean, hollowing his cheeks and working his tongue over them as his tear-filled lustful blue eyes looked back to the face of the man above him. It was a miracle Alfie didn't come right there and then.

"You were that hungry for it, huh, eager little whore," he pressed his fingers into the hot wet mouth deeper until his knuckles were kissing the younger man's top lip, "didn't even ask for permission before ruining the fun, you spoiled brat."

Alfie gave a sharp slap to Tommy's backside that was hanging off the edge of the desk, making him moan around his fingers, sucking harder and tightening his hole even more around the older man's cock.

Alfie gave an almost hiss as he inhaled, fuck, he was too close. "I'll make you regret that, you tight fucking bitch." and then began to hammer his length into the delicious heat in the most brutal pace he could manage.

Tommy's scream was muffled by the fingers still pressing down on his tongue. He clawed at Alfie's shoulders, on the edge of ripping the fabric from the pleasure surging through his oversensitive body. He could feel his own spent cock painfully hardening back to attention, spilling tears down his cheeks.

The heaving soft chest below him was too tempting to resist and Alfie leaned down to press wet open-mouthed kisses on the pale flesh, leaving behind blooming hickeys before capturing a rosy nipple with his mouth and giving it a strong suck.

The sound the smaller man made below him was almost inhuman as both of his hands wound their way into Alfie's hair, intent on keeping him on his chest, while his legs locked around his waist, heels digging sharply into his flesh, pulling him in with each trust to fasten the pace even further. 

Alfie lifted his head, releasing the now red and puffy nub to Tommy's dismay who gave a protesting whine around the fingers that slipped out his mouth, leaving a wet trail along his chin, to lightly circle around his throat.

"Who do you belong to, Tommy?" Alfie growled in a deep voice, "Who owns your sweet ass, hm? Who's the only one that can fuck it at any time, any day, together with your sinful mouth?" his hand tightened around Tommy's slender neck and bucked his hips impossibly harder, rocking various papers and pens off the desk, "Tell me, who's whore are you?"

Tommy could only moan and clutch his fingers in the hair on the back of the larger man's head, tightening his legs around the heavy body above him.

"You, ah, I belong to you, oh, Mr. Solomons, aah, only you, ah," he tried to swallow the saliva back down that slipped past his lips, "I'm your whore, Alfie." 

"Good boy." Alfie growled as he leaned back down, sucked on the other nipple harshly, and sped up his thrusts, chasing his release.

The younger man arched his back into it with a shout, so close again "Please, ah Alfie... I want to come, ah, please, Mr. Solomons, let me..."

Alfie leaned up to create a large dark hickey on the side of Tommy's neck, just below his jaw, where he couldn't hide it behind a collar and whispered into his ear "Come for me then, my dirty little whore."

Alfie was already reaching down to take Tommy's cock in his hand when the younger man suddenly came from the words and thrusts alone again. The way he tightened around his dick sent him instantly over the edge with a roar tearing his way through his throat.

He almost collapsed his entire weight onto the slim figure under him if not steadying himself with an arm next to Tommy's head in the last moment, resting his head at the juncture of the pale, now marked up, neck below, trying to catch his breath. Both men trying to get their heart rate back to normal, staying like that for a few minutes in each other's embrace.

Alfie vaguely registered gentle hands carding through his hair and caressing down his back. It was a stark contrast to the sharp nails digging into his back and scalp mere minutes ago. Then he could feel soft lips pressing a wet kiss to his sweaty temple and staying there for a long minute. Tommy's breath a cool wind on his heated skin. It felt strangely intimate.

When Tommy took his mouth away Alfie leaned back to look him in the eye, their faces mere centimeters apart. He studied his flushed post-coital face for a few seconds then kissed him gently, almost lovingly.

Tommy seemed to melt into the motion, wrapping his arms around the older man's shoulders, moaning softly, feeling safe and warm.

Alfie pulled back from the lazy kiss with a sleepy smile and a soft chuckle. 

"Lovely business talk treacle, wish all of them were like this."

Tommy hummed and slid his fingers over the side of Alfie's face, pulling him back for a quick kiss "The pleasure was mine, Mr. Solomons."

Alfie snickered into the next kiss and held the slim frame close. When he let up again he straightened up with a painful groan.

"Fuck, my back is still sore from when that gorilla threw me halfway across the bloody town, needs to be restrained that one, together with that bloody brother of yours."

Tommy chuckled and stretched on the desk with a smirk, pale skin on beautiful display, ribs poking out with the movement.

"Which one? I have six."

Alfie laughed at that "I was thinking about Arthur but now that you mention it, some of the others could be as well."

He stepped back and pulled out his now softening prick, his release dripping from Tommy's hole, and reached for a tissue at the side of the desk to clean himself up and tuck his cock back into the confines of his pants.

Tommy grimaced and reached for his cigarettes in the drawer, laying on the desk, smoking, completely naked, and fucked out, with a dreamy look on his face, come dripping from his ass and covering his belly. God, Alfie loved the picture. Even more so knowing it was him that got the little gypsy prince in such state. 

"Don't trust my twins. Cock-thirsty whores the lot of them. Will jump on you the first chance they get." Tommy hummed from where he lay on the desk.

Alfie laughed and sat back on the chair in front of Tommy's spread thighs, one hand moving to lift one of the skinny ankles to his face to press a gentle kiss to the sock-clad limb.

"Seems like you have that in common, huh."

Tommy pushed himself up on his elbows to glare at Alfie with an unimpressed lift to a brow. Alfie pressed an apologetic kiss to Tommy's knee.

"Tell you what, how about we sneak back to your lovely home, take me to your bed and I'll tell you all about my family while I give you your third mind-blowing orgasm of the day, hm? How does that sound, love?" 

Tommy honest to God gave a smile at that. It was so beautiful Alfie had to get up and lean over him to kiss him again properly. When Tommy pulled back, Alfie chased after him.

"That sounds lovely, Mr. Solomons."

"Anything for a beneficial business with you, treacle."


	3. Say "Baby, you're so vain"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after in the Shelby household begins in a quite interesting way...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that It might have been a bit confusing that previously Kitten has been misgendered, but remember that the story is narrated from Alfie's point of view, who had no idea Kitten was a transwoman... until now ;)

Alfie woke to the chirping of early morning birds and gentle sunlight shining through his closed eyelids. He kept his eyes shut, not yet feeling the need to return to the outside world, the only sign of his newfound wakefulness is a soft groan from the returning back-ache that has been keeping him company since the day before. The old worn-out mattress he laid on bearing not much of a relief.

Oh, that's right, this was not his bed. He spent the night in Tommy Shelby's room. And, boy, what a night that was. Alfie couldn't help the lazy grin the memory elicited.

He spent the whole night slowly making love to Tommy's sensitive but still eager body. He could still see on the back of his eyelids the sweat-slick, beautiful face displaying nothing but utter pleasure under him as he fucked the younger man once more that night. 

What a heavenly image that was, a rosy blush covering sharp cheekbones adorned with light freckles, long lashes fluttering around crystal clear blue eyes, spilling delicate teardrops to meet cherry-colored lips, reddened from bites and oh so many kisses. All illuminated in weak but warm candlelight.

Tommy tried to keep his voice down in fear of rousing his family due to the paper-thin walls but the poor darling just couldn't help the sweet mewls and delightful whispers escaping him when Alfie thrust just right, marked his skin up so well and whispered such filth it could make any whore blush.

It was a night Alfie put in a golden frame in the forefront of his mind. He will remember it until his last breath, of that he was sure.

He suddenly became very aware of the warm body pressed against his side nuzzling closer, delicate fingertips caress through his chest hair, slowly making their way up to his beard in playful motions. It made Alfie's smile widen. 

It was the first time they spent the whole night together in a bed and Alfie was sure until now that Tommy would be the type to be up before dawn and leave him snoozing while he went out to work. Not even in his wildest dream would he have thought that he'd stay to cuddle until morning and wait until Alfie rouses as well.

Speaking of wild dreams, Alfie sure had a real weird one last night. In the dream, Tommy had all these horny twins that tried to jump on his cock. He kept mistaking them for Tommy and getting thrown around by one of the brothers' rhino of a husband. Lucky it was just a dream and not real, huh.

He felt the slim body next to him rise and the next thing he knew Alfie had soft lips pressing against his. Alfie hummed into the tender kiss and brought his arms around the small waist of his lover who moved to straddle him carefully. Tommy sure was a romantic in the morning, huh. Alfie should spend the night more often.

With a playful nip to Alfie's lower-lip, the kiss heated up and deepened as his hands tightened around the thin frame, pulling him closer. He really should make Tommy eat more.

His thoughts were interrupted by slender fingers reaching below the waistband of his underwear to grab at his hardening length. He might be still mentally asleep for the most part but his cock sure didn't get the memo as it was standing ready for action. Not like Alfie didn't feel up for some lazy morning sex with his perfect boy.

The hand holding him stroked gently but determinedly, pulling the fabric completely back and away with the other one. So Tommy stayed in bed waiting for another round, huh, yeah, he can work with that.

"Good morning to you too love," Alfie murmured between wet kisses, "you sure are a lively creature, aren't ya? Thought I effectively sated your needs last night, but I guess you need a good dicking for breakfast as well, hm? Hungry little whore." He finished with a lazy slap to one of the buttocks in his lap.

That earned him a broken high-pitched moan into the next kiss, the hand that stroked him until now eagerly leading his length to Tommy's entrance.

"Now, now, what's the hurry for love, I'm sure you're still loose and wet from yesterday but you know how much I love to spread you apart, no? Slow down, baby."

He reached up to pull Tommy back by his hair, but instead of the familiar peach fuzz, silky curls met his fingers. His eyes snapped open as he pulled back the person, that was still busy kissing him silly, by the soft locks in his grasp. It was fucking Kitten, smiling down at him with spit-slick pink lips.

The twins weren't a dream. None of it was a dream.

Just as the realization fully reached his brain the bedroom door loudly swung open and in stepped an absolutely fuming and fully dressed Tommy. His eyes widened momentarily at the scene before him before storming up to the bed and tearing Kitten off of Alfie's lap by the back of the neck. Kitten let out a high-pitched shriek as he was roughly dragged out of the room, accompanied by Tommy roaring with anger. He has never seen him so mad before.

"KITTEN I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, I'M THROWING ALL OF YOUR MAKEUP INTO THE CUT!"

Alfie was frozen on the bed as his brain finally caught up with the situation. So yesterday actually happened.

Tommy came back a minute later, still seething as he slumped on the bed next to Alfie's thigh and cradled his head in his hands, groaning tiredly.

"Not one fucking moment of peace. Not a single one." he looked up and turned to Alfie who was still recovering from this morning's shock, "I spent all fucking morning trying to keep those sluts away. Robert might be too shy to initiate, Jonathan is getting pounded into the mattress as a reminder that he still very much has a husband, but Kitten... Kitten is a fucking force to be reckoned with. I even locked you in but the bitch somehow picked the bloody lock."

Alfie finally calmed down enough to laugh at that, reaching up and pulling Tommy down and against his chest that was still shaking with laughter. Tommy groaned into the flesh his face was pressed to.

"You can never stay here again as long as they're here. Maybe it won't be safe even when they leave. Kitten can smell a good ride from miles away."

"Aw, I'm glad to be considered a good ride, and also, pity, I started to enjoy their company. Except for, of course, Jonathan's tank of a man."

Tommy rested his chin on Alfie's chest and looked up at him, now completely laying flat on the larger man, and hummed softly, seemingly drained of all the anger from the comfortable embrace.

"Bane is actually quite nice. He's very intelligent, polite and eloquent."

"Yeah, well, he very politely broke my fucking back in half."

Tommy chuckled "Oh, come on, don't say that, considering that he very politely didn't. Unlike he did with Jonathan's ex. He did get his back very broken in half. It was quite impressive."

Alfie swallowed nervously. Well, of course, he slept under the same roof as that back-breaking maniac. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his blooming fear.

"So, uh, Bane, right, was the polite fella's name? Hm. Quite charming, looks like a right scholar, that one. How did he meet your brother exactly?"

"Jonathan was his psychiatrist in the asylum he was locked in," Tommy answered nonchalantly.

Alfie dragged a palm down his face. Of course, he was insane as well.

"He keeps getting more and more lovely the more I listen."

Tommy chuckled again, the sadistic bastard enjoying Alfie's suffering, "Don't worry, he's not crazy, Jonathan just testified in court that he might have some mental health issues to save him from going back to prison. A very loving way to protect him and also keep him close if you ask me."

Alfie's head shot up with a bewildered look on his face, "Did you just say 'going back to prison'? 'Back'? As in he was there before?"

Tommy rolled his eyes "Don't act like we wouldn't be in prison if not for the coppers in our pocket. Believe it or not, he's a sweet, well-educated and respectful gentleman, unlike others." he tapped his fingers on Alfie's chest as a silent example.

"So the muzzle he's wearing isn't to hold him back from biting my bloody head off?" Alfie gestured at his face for emphasis.

Tommy sighed and got up from the bed to lean down and gather Alfie's clothes off the floor where they were thrown messily in the heat of the previous night. "No, but it is an added bonus. The mask pumps him full of medication to dull his constant physical pain and keep him sated. Jonathan designed it. Bane wasn't in the most... healthy conditions before meeting Nat. He helped him get better, and in return, Bane kept him safe. They love each other very much."

Alfie could see Tommy softly smile to himself as he finished talking. So they were actually a cute couple, huh.

"What about Robert and Kitten? Do they also have polite muscle-giant partners that they love like that?"

Tommy rolled his eyes again before throwing the clothes in his hands into Alfie's face, silently ordering him to get dressed.

"Robert came back together with Jonathan and Bane two weeks ago when hearing that they wanted to give a family visit. He said he needed a break from the business in America. Not like he did much besides being a sidepiece to influential older men and scam his way into their will and wallet, but he likes to act the fancy important businessman instead of the pretty boy-toy," Alfie repressed the urge to comment that Tommy also fit the last the part.

"Anyway, Jonathan told me that the actual reason for his return was that he got his heart broken by some other schemer who got close to him and took a very large amount of his hard-earned sugarbaby allowance. He always had a material mindset, but instead of the money, he's crying over the man, even protecting his image when we ask about it. It seems like he did a great job in swiping Robby off his feet."

Alfie hummed as he buttoned his shirt, "A right fucking bastard that man is if you ask me. Wouldn't mind knocking some sense into that head with a rusty pipe, you know what I'm saying?" he continued while pulling on his trousers, "Not as if scheming old men out of their wealth using one's beauty was the most honorable job, but I'm sure Robby is a sweet boy that didn't deserve some dickhead to play with his heart like that."

Tommy snorted at that and leaned against the wall as he watched Alfie finish dressing up. 

"If you think I act arrogant, then you should really get to know him better. He's always been an insufferable entitled brat. Jonathan told me that the reason he acts so shy around you is that you remind him of the guy that broke his heart. God knows how the men he schemed put up with him."

"Well, men who let themselves get schemed aren't from the brightest bunch usually. I just know, one of my brothers does similar stuff. Not the sugarbaby part, just goes around and robs rich people right in front of their noses with some friends of his. Acts like a fucking king because of it." he buckled his belt while talking, grabbing his coat and hat, effectively completing his dressing up, "My other little brother is his complete opposite compared to him. A nervous fucking wreck that one, right, can't harm a fly, will apologize to you if you pour soup in his lap. I've always tried to teach him a sense of self-worth, ya know, to fight back, but Eddie, the dumb fucker, is too busy drowning in his misery."

Tommy reached up to smooth down the wrinkles on Alfie's shirt under his suit jacket, a lost cause due to their time on the bedroom floor.

"I'm guessing he's not the American Jewish gang leader then?"

Alfie smiled at the strangely domestic situation they were standing in, Tommy fussing over his clothing in the morning after some marathon sex the night before like some dedicated housewife.

"Nah, mate, bless his soul, he refuses to do anything illegal unlike us and works as a fucking journalist, of all things, living worse than a rat on that salary, but the idiot won't accept any of our help. Gonna send a fucking army to force him to visit me the moment I'm back in Camden, that's for sure. God knows he wouldn't eat or sleep normally for a second if I don't watch over his sorry ass."

Tommy smirked as he grabbed Alfie's hand and led him out the door and down the stairs.

"Did the visit to my family home inspire some brotherly bonding, Mr. Solomons?"

Alfie chuckled as they made their way to the kitchen, "You know what, treacle? It might have. Fuck it, it's been a while since we were all back together, I miss Esther, Eames, and Eddie. Gonna invite all my little siblings for a week or two, bloody hell, maybe even my fucking cousins, those dirty bastards."

Their conversation was soon interrupted by the shouting of multiple people in the kitchen.

"I just don't understand why you can't sit still on your ass instead of pushing it in the direction of the nearest man available," Polly groaned, "You can't just prance around like a two penny hooker on the streets of Birmingham, Kitten, you know that well. Not since you share that face with the fucking king of it. People who don't know better might try to hurt you."

Kitten was crying, fingers nervously playing with the lacey hem of a torn baby-blue dress on the kitchen table.

"He seemed so nice, calling me "Lovely" and "Miss" and everything, but then all of a sudden he just wasn't..."

Tommy froze in the doorway, effectively stopping Alfie as well.

"What happened?"

Ada looked up with pity in her eyes from where she was caressing Kitten's back in soothing motions.

"Kitten went out to buy some pastries for breakfast and flirted with the baker's new helper who attacked her when he thought it was Tommy in a dress. Luckily she got away with minimal bruising."

Did Alfie hear 'her' and 'she' right? Was Kitten actually a girl? That'd make sense, Alfie honestly thought she was the female version of Tommy when he first saw her. But didn't the others refer to her as their brother? He planned on asking Tommy but when he turned towards him, he shut his mouth quickly. Tommy looked livid, all color drained from his face.

"Are you telling me that some fucking bastard now is walking around telling everybody that I'm running around in dresses trying to pick up men?" 

Ada slammed her hands on the table and screamed at Tommy "Are you fucking serious right now Thomas?! Is your image more fucking important than the safety of your own flesh and blood-"

"Who tried to ride my barely conscious man, when he thought it was me?! Yeah, pardon me for not being in the most sympathetic mood, Ada!" Tommy shouted back.

Huh, so now he was Tommy's man? He'll store that information away for later.

Ada groaned and Arthur stepped between them with wide eyes, voicing Alfie's thought: "He's your fucking man?!" Now it was Tommy's turn to groan.

Polly hushed him in an irritated tone, "Come on Thomas, you know how Patrick was like as a kid, he always-"

But before she could finish her sentence Kitten stood up suddenly, slamming the table even louder then Ada did and screamed.

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME PATRICK! Ever since I've been back, I've been trying so fucking hard to get you guys to accept me, I've been so patient, but nothing seems to fucking work!" Kitten turned to each person in the kitchen one by one, "Stop calling me your brother, stop calling me your nephew, stop saying 'he' when you refer to me! And most of all, stop fucking calling me Patrick! I've had fucking enough! That's why I fucking left ten years ago!"

Everybody was stunned to silence as Kitten went on, "Even after dad left, I thought you'd be more understanding and finally let me be the girl I was meant to be, but you still kept fucking calling me that awful name! I thought at first that the problem was with me but when I was finally free from you guys I realized it wasn't. Why is it so fucking hard to understand that I'm a woman?! Why can't you finally accept it?!" She stormed up to Thomas, clutching him by his shirt collar and shaking him, "And I'm sorry for having the same fucking face as you and bringing you fucking shame, and I'm sorry for climbing onto your fucking man, but," and suddenly all anger drained from her face, overcome with so much sadness as her voice broke and became small as she said, "I'm just... so lonely."

She looked so broken it made Alfie's heart clench painfully. It seemed like he wasn't the other one.

Tommy stared silently for a second with wide eyes, then his gaze softened as he brought his hands around Kitten's middle in a tight embrace and buried his face into her neck, before sighing "I'm sorry, Kitten. You are bringing no one shame." he tightened his hold around a now silent and stunned Kitten, "Us, no, I, on the other hand, was a shameful brother to my twin sister. I'm sorry."

Alfie felt his own throat tighten at the scene before him. It should have felt too intimate to be comfortable for a stranger like him, but somehow he felt right at home as he ruffled Kitten's chestnut locks affectionately, who was now returning Tommy's hug with fresh tears and eager hands pulling him closer.

"Knew the first time I saw ya, right, that this lovely little lady can't possibly be Tommy," Alfie said with a comforting smile.

Kitten beamed at the words and soon the whole family joined in on the hug and cry fest, all clamoring about how Alfie was right.

"It always felt right to give you my lacey skirts and Sunday dress. Suited you better." Ada chimed.

"Knew that a delicate flower like you had to be protected as mom said," Arthur stammered, ineffectively holding his tears back, his mustache now dripping with snot, "always protect the ladies, she said, and I knew that included you." he broke down crying, clutching against Kitten's waist, as if she could disappear at any moment, "I love my little sister, I love you, Kitten, fuck!" he almost sounded disgusting the way he was heaving if not for the sweet words.

Kitten took no notice of Arthur's slimy state and held him close with delicate hands and a delightful smile. John tried to act tougher, or as tough as he could with tears running down his cheeks in fucking rivers as he tried to take deep shakey breaths, "Yeah, I remember in school how the other boys teased me that my sister was hot, and when I asked if they were talking about Ada, they would say 'Nah', and point at you. They were right, you were much prettier."

That did earn him an elbow to the ribs by Ada and a chuckle from Kitten.

"The flower crowns and pigtails helped," Kitten laughed at the memory, "but not the weird dresses that Jonathan sew. I looked like a bloody scarecrow in those rags!"

"Speaking of Jonathan, where is he?" Thomas asked, looking up from the hold he still had on Kitten.

Robert rubbed the tears out of his own eyes from where he was standing next to the bonding pile, "When Kitten came back Finn asked her what happened to her, then he ran up to Jonathan's room to alert him and Bane, then they hurriedly left together. Haven't been back since."

Alfie somehow instantly knew what that meant. The thought of what fate the bastard would receive that hurt Kitten made a shiver run down his spine.

Just as he was about to ask when that was, they heard the front door open then slam shut as footsteps made their way into the kitchen. First Finn ran in and as he noticed the hugs Kitten was receiving he immediately rushed to join the pile, almost tipping all of them over with the force he jumped at them gleefully.

"Kitten, Kitten, you won't believe what I just saw!"

But the answer to what Finn saw was more than easily predictable as Jonathan and Bane stepped into view, covered in blood from head to toe and seemingly very satisfied by it.

Polly groaned "Tell me that you didn't tear a man to shreds in front of your twelve-year-old brother..."

"We just simply gave Finn a demonstration of the anatomy of the inside of the human body," Jonathan said methodically as if he was giving a lecture, while he wiped his bloodstained glasses on the kitchen rag.

"That man won't bother you anymore, Miss Kitten. Although I do apologize for not being able to do more for your safety and comfort, I sincerely hope you find some peace with the knowledge that the scrapes of the scum are now being digested by the dogs of the street." Bane added.

Well, damn, Tommy was right, the big bastard was eloquent as fuck, now wasn't he?

After Jonathan and Bane were shooed off to clean themselves ("No fucking in the bathroom or so help me God..." Tommy screamed after them, which only elicited a mad laugh from Jonathan and a "We'll be careful!"), the family moved to the living room and huddled together like chicks for warmth, it was a very sweet sight.

Tommy remained in the hallway with Alfie, promising to join the others after he properly led his guest out. Kitten rushed over to give one last hug to Alfie and a gentle peck to the lips before Tommy could pull her back again.

"Please visit again soon, I'll have my wedding dress ready, Alfie bear," she said with a coy smile before moving to go back to the puppy-pile with a wink. Tommy just shook his head and looked at the ceiling.

"Don't worry, Kitten, I will, and if Thomas here continues to be so terribly rude, right, I might as well start planning our honeymoon." Alfie returned with a smirk, turning towards Tommy who looked utterly betrayed.

"Oh, I hope he does." Kitten giggled before disappearing behind the doorway. From the same doorway, Robert emerged shyly, half-standing behind the wall as he bid goodbye to Alfie.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Solomons. I do sincerely wish that we'll meet again in the near future," the little sweetheart could barely meet Alfie's eye without flushing.

"Yeah, I do plan on visiting again soon if Tommy is so kind as to let me. But even if he doesn't I'll still sneak up to your window at night to ravish you, sweetheart," Alfie answered with a cheeky wink and seemed to turn up poor Robert's body heat to a level that could not be considered healthy.

Tommy groaned once more before grabbing Alfie by the shoulders and physically turning him around and shoving him towards the exit. Once they were there Alfie turned back to him with a fond smile as he opened the door.

"Don't worry, treacle, if there's anyone in this household that I'd ravish, that would be you."

Tommy tried his hardest to bite down the smile that threatened to escape him.

"As always, it was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Solomons."

"Aw, it's Mr. Solomons again now, is it? I preferred when you referred to me as your man," Alfie took notice of Tommy's reddening cheeks, "was just about to ask Ollie to change the nameplate on my door to 'Thomas Shelby's man', how would you like that, love?"

"Maybe 'Thomas Shelby's pain in the ass' sounds more accurate," Tommy added cheekily as he smoothed down Alfie's coat, refusing to look him in the eyes.

"Oh, accurate that sure is, but then again you love it when I cause some sweet pain in your beautiful ass, don't you darling?" Alfie chuckled and looked back out on the street to see it empty enough before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to Tommy's lips.

Tommy melted into the motion before pulling back a few centimeters, "That is not very business partner-like behavior, Mr. Solomons."

"Then it's lucky I'm your man as well when I do this," Alfie smirked before giving another sweet kiss. Tommy smiled before pushing him back out onto the street and bidding him farewell with a simple sentence:

"I'm glad you are."

The whole way back Alfie couldn't stop his lips from tingling at the memory of the kiss nor his grin from spreading at Tommy's last words. He was Tommy Shelby's man, huh.


	4. But I'm living on overdrive, all the time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy goes to Camden for a surprise visit of his own... he also gets more than what he bargained for, but not the good kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, the plot thickens and a familiar face appears...
> 
> I made some art for this fic now so check that out on my Tumblr page (@abusivelittlebunny) at https://abusivelittlebunny.tumblr.com/post/621462588042199040/kitten-tommy-for-my-all-4-you-fic-ill-be

Tommy Shelby prided himself in his self-control. Truly he was gifted with tactical knowledge and a mediating personality if he said so himself. Acting on impulses seemed below himself. Most of the time. Or at least that was what he kept repeating to himself in the kitchen while holding a cup of, by now cold, tea, as if it was the only thing keeping him sane.

He knows all too well that he should not be this worked up, it has only been a week since Alfie left. He was more than sated by his last visit and he's not some teenager in short trousers who can't function a day without some kind of sexual activity. He was not going to go to Camden for no other reason than to spend time with the older man.

But the memory of the encounter, the intimacy, the hint of domesticity amongst the clouds of lust just drowns his brain with inexplainable and constantly nagging thoughts.

Something changed. The rules of the game that they've been playing somehow were overwritten. He doesn't know if it happened when he let the other man into his childhood home or when he let him meet his family or when he let him act like he was part of it. Or when he called Alfie his man. And he seemed to love it.

Fuck, he felt like he was an idiotic little boy with a crush on the smith's older son again. The one that had those nice arms that could hold him so well. Alfie's like that too. Those huge fucking arms could hold him all night like-

Tommy groaned into his cup at his thought-process. He felt miserably horny. And Jonathan's old room being right next to his didn't help one bit. 

That was the main reason why he was sitting in the goddamn kitchen at two in the morning, nursing his cold tea instead of trying to get some sleep or maybe hump the pillow a bit like some needy slut while thinking about Alfie's hands holding him.

Jonathan, the lucky fucking bastard, was getting fucked every single night. Loudly. Almost too loudly, as if he was boasting about it, rubbing it under Tommy's nose, moaning about how good it was and how much he loved being filled with that big cock.

The creaking of the old bed, the banging of the headboard against the wall, Bane's hoarse whispers and groans of "yeah, babe, take it like the good bitch you are" all played together a cruel symphony for Tommy's suffering. It was infuriating.

The others didn't seem to mind it one bit; one floor down, Arthur and Polly knocked themselves out with liquor every night, Finn and Ada were too far and too good sleepers to notice much, and John with Esme seemed to actually get off on it, the kinky bastards, their kids on the bottom floor falling asleep instantly as they hit the bed.

And on the same floor as the coupling madmen, Kitten and Robert liked to occasionally join in, therefore they had no complaints whatsoever. To be fair Jonathan even offered Bane's handy services to Tommy if he ever felt the need for something to fill the emptiness.

But the thought of his brother's husband giving him a pity-fingering just seemed to make him even more miserable. He had Alfie, but he was busy. He said he had some trouble with the Italians again and he was going to have some important meeting with one of them, some bigshot that sailed in all the way from America.

Should Tommy have asked more about the meeting? Will Alfie be okay? Does he not need backup? And why does he care? Maybe because he seemed to be his man now? Did that mean a relationship? Would he be okay with that? Did Alfie even take what he said seriously? What if he only wanted the casual business partners who occasionally fuck thing? They should definitely talk about that.

But his slowly spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a clearly freshly fucked Jonathan stepping gingerly into the kitchen. Skin still glistening with sweat, flush adorning his face, marks on his neck, and exposed thighs under the loose sleep shirt. Of course, show your limp off, you lucky whore.

"Aw Tommy, you look like shit, you should get some...sleep," he said amusedly, almost snickering as he pulled two cups out of the cupboard.

Tommy just rolled his eyes "Wouldn't that be a treat. Sadly I keep getting interrupted by your wailing, you fucking banshee. Reckon I'll just wait the storm out in this relative safety," he emphasized his point by tapping the kitchen table.

Jonathan actually chuckled at that as he put the kettle on then sat across from Tommy with his head held up with his hands, elbows resting on the table.

"Pity. I even tried to solve that problem of yours by using my mouth tonight, you poor dear. You know how much effort that takes, my jaw still aches, not that I'm complaining. It's a very welcome strain." 

If Tommy keeps rolling his eyes that hard they'll surely just retrieve into his skull, "Is there another reason why you torment me with your terrible small-talk besides it being your God-given nature to do so with people occupying the same space as you?"

"Actually, there is," Jonathan perked up, standing to fill the cups, even Tommy's, with chamomile tea, "I would like to ask you to take us into London tomorrow. Us meaning Kitten, Robert, Bane, and myself."

Tommy frowned "Why would all of you need to go to London tomorrow?"

"I need to stock up as well as get some special ingredients for my next project, that I may not be able to receive back in America," he carefully dripped honey into the cups while a smug smile overtook his face, "you may know that Dr. Crane is not allowed to purchase a few items in American pharmacies," Ah, right, his alter ego overseas.

Tommy blew his tea "Hm, what about Dr. Shelby?" 

Jonathan gave a brief laugh "Dr. Shelby is not allowed to come even close to a pharmacy."

"Fair enough. I'm guessing Bane is there to carry your packages?"

"Yes, he insisted on coming. Ever since the little incident with your boyfriend, he's not been keen to let me out of his sight. Too protective, my love is, but I like to indulge him."

Tommy tried to not choke on his tea at the word 'boyfriend', "What about the others?" he hoped the faint tremor in his voice would not be noticed by his brother, but by his Cheshire cat grin that was a lost battle.

Thankfully Jonathan decided to focus on his question as he pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, "Kitten heard me mention my plan and decided that she needed to visit some lovely London boutiques for a shopping spree and Robert is at least as vain as our lovely sister and wanted to tag along, maybe find a new wealthy gentleman to latch onto. He found his last victim in a designer shop too."

"I don't see why you can't ask any of the others to be your chauffeur." Tommy was irrationally irritated he knew but still. 

Jonathan let his head turn slightly to the side like he was trying to understand Tommy better from a new angle, "For someone with so much ego and pride for their intellect, you sure are a dumb one, Tom."

Tommy glared over his cup, "If that is your reasoning, I'm afraid you lost this debate, Dr. Crane. Ask Arthur."

Jonathan groaned and let his head fall forward in defeat, "I knew most if not all people are morons, but to have my own twin join them?" He looked up once more, "I'm giving you an excuse to visit him, you idiot. And before you even try to ask who and kill more of my brain cells, I'm referring to, of course, your boyfriend, Mr. Solomons."

Tommy set his poker face up with lightning speed before his jaw could fall to the floor, "I do not need to visit him. It's only been a week," But he didn't deny the boyfriend part.

Jonathan snorted as he stood and took the two cups in hand, "Clearly. Look who's counting the days and looks like hell," he turned back one last time before going upstairs, "just take the opportunity when it presents itself, Tommy. Clean the spiderwebs off your ass. We should leave by eight. Goodnight."

That's how Tommy found himself driving into Camden in the morning, self-control be damned, pulling over on the busy shop-filled road to let the passengers of the car step out.

"You all remember the address I gave you right? The bakery is only a couple turns away, you can't miss it, that's where we meet. You have an hour, so make it count. I'll not be waiting in the car for you to come around."

Kitten jumped out happily, her powder pink dress fluttering around her stocking-clad legs, "Aw, just go already, Alfie bear must be waiting! Don't forget to reapply the lip balm I gave you! No one likes to smooch chapped lips!"

Tommy groaned as the doors of the vehicles closed and set off to the bakery but did dab some of the cherry-flavored beauty product on his lips before he reached his destination. It'll be fine, Alfie won't notice. He hoped.

Parking in plain view of the bakery was not an unusual occurrence but the usual workers and members of Alfie's gang seemed to be on high alert as Tommy made his way towards the door, watching his every move. Ollie looked even more nervous than usual and that truly said something.

"Mr. Shelby, I didn't hear that you were coming today," he muttered while frantically looking around as if Tommy was only the first horseman of the apocalypse and the rest were close behind. He might not have been wrong about that.

"That is because I was not supposed to, Ollie," Tommy strode forward, past the nerve-wracked boy, "don't worry, I'm only here to say hi, as I was in town, and I shall be on my way."

He knew the way to Alfie's office by now and he took his steps faster than usual, a strange sense of hurry overtaking his movements. He wanted to see Alfie. Call him his man. Kiss him senseless. Hold him close. Suck his d-

"Mr. Shelby, please, I don't think this is a good time, Mr. Solomons is about to have a visitor and-" God, but was Ollie fucking persistent as he ran after Tommy who was almost by the door of the office at this point.

"Yeah, he sure is about to have one. Me." He said as he opened the familiar entrance.

Alfie wouldn't have seemed nervous to an outsider, sitting back behind his chair comfortably, reading glasses perched on his nose as he looked up from his papers with a raise of one brow, but Tommy knew better. The tell-tale reaching to the drawer on the side that held his gun, the way his other hand tightened around his fountain pen, all before realizing who bust into his room uninvited, they all told a different story. Alfie was not calm at all.

"Thomas, sweetheart, what a surprise," Alfie spoke while taking his glasses off and standing up, "not that it is an unwelcome one, you know, the sight of your pretty face makes life worth living, and all that, but what do I owe this sudden appearance of yours, love?"

Tommy glared at Ollie who was still standing a few steps behind himself until the other got the memo and scurried off with apologies, closing the door as he went, giving them privacy. Only after that did Tommy look back to the man that he's been craving to see since he left.

"Good day, Alfie. I was just passing by. Running some errands. Wanted to say hi at least while I'm here, only seemed polite," Tommy tried to keep his cool, hiding the tremor in his hand by fishing his cigarettes and lighter out of his suit jacket. He knew Alfie hated the habit but he was feeling like a schoolchild called on by the teacher at this point and he needed to calm his nerves somehow.

Alfie leaned against the desk, seemingly calmer than before, not just faking it, as he crossed his arms and hummed with an amused glint in his eye, "Passing by were you, treacle? On what errand, hm? If I may ask."

Tommy finally got his cigarette lit and exhaled smoke as he gestured nonchalantly with his hand, "Oh you know, just Jonathan and the others needed to shop around in the big city and asked me to accompany them." fuck, the cigarette wasn't helping, "Why, what other errand do you think I came to do in London?" he threw back the question. He felt so childish.

Alfie rubbed a hand over his beard, not able to hide the grin slowly spreading on his face as he stepped closer and closer to Tommy. Close enough to touch, but he kept the distance as a challenge.

"Well, I was hoping that your little errand may be some kind of code for giving me a good luck kiss before I might jump into a bloodbath." his tone was not serious, but the topic made Tommy's blood run cold.

"Is this why your men are on their toes? Should I have brought back up?"

"Look at you being the worried spouse, treacle," Alfie chuckled, "don't worry I can handle any fucking wop that comes my way." he took the cigarette from Tommy's hand without touching him, and stubbed it out on the ashtray on his desk before returning his gaze to Tommy, "It's just these American wops are even more vicious then Sabini's rats. Changretta is known for his cruel tendencies, the maniac."

Tommy's belly gave a happy flutter at the word spouse, even if Alfie was just joking, but frowned at the mentioned name, "Changretta? Why does he sound so familiar? I swear someone mentioned him to me before."

"Yeah, that's entirely possible considering his influence back in the States. But don't worry your pretty little head about it, I'm always in control, just the way you like it." Alfie added with a sly drawl.

Tommy smoothed his hand down the older man's shirt in a familiar gesture, trying to make him look more decent while sating his need to finally touch the warm and firm body in front of him.

"Good. But I can't help thinking what chaos may occur to my business if my main business partner gets killed off while trying to use his horrible negotiation skills."

Alfie laughed at that, "I preferred when you called me, what was that again?" Alfie leaned so close that Tommy could feel his breath dance across his lips.

Tommy finally looked back up into his eyes from where they were glued to the other's shirt. He was all too aware of his cheeks heating up as he rested his hand on Alfie's chest.

"My man." he whispered, "Are you?" he hated how weak and afraid he sounded.

Alfie smiled softly, his gaze unbreakable, "Of course I am, Tommy. If you'll have me."

Tommy couldn't keep calm anymore as he launched himself at Alfie, hands cradling the back of his head as he pulled him close for a fierce and passionate kiss as an answer. He could feel the other's large arms coming around his waist to press their bodies together tightly and lead him back towards the desk.

Meeting be damned, he wanted Alfie to fuck him on his desk, now. He scrambled to take his jacket off with his waistcoat without breaking the kiss that turned more heated by the second. Alfie helping with making quick work on the buttons of his shirt, stopping halfway to let his big calloused palms explore the newly revealed skin of his chest.

Yeah, Tommy might have been a bit too eager in the morning to finally see Alfie and might have forgotten to put on an undershirt when getting dressed. But now it was just one less layer to remove to feel Alfie's hands on his skin.

Tommy moaned eagerly at the new physical contact, revealing in the older man now nipping and kissing at his jawline and down his neck as one of his hands pinched at a nipple while the other moved to undo his belt.

Tommy's eyes were closed in pleasure, all too occupied with the sensation of the smooth skin of his face rubbing against Alfie's coarse beard, giving purring little sounds as his legs circled the other man's waist, pulling him close. 

"Fuck me, please, Alfie, I want you inside me." he felt the other man's appreciative groan against the side of his face, kissing his cheekbone and undoing the rest of his buttons. It was pure bliss.

He dreamily opened his eyes, not at all ready to see another pair stare right back at him amusedly from behind Alfie's shoulder. Tommy instantly froze up like a statue, feeling mortified at the attention directed his way by the stranger in Alfie's guest chair.

The man in question was smirking and did not seem the least bit disturbed by the events in front of him, as if he was just watching a play or movie and not actual people trying to fuck on a desk not two meters away from him.

He was handsome, with slicked-back black hair, a curved nose, eyes that pierced right through Tommy's soul, and a toothpick resting between his thin lips. He was dressed sharply, his legs crossed, leaning back against the chair, hands folded in his lap. Despite the fact that he was sitting Tommy could make out that he was ridiculously tall, his overly long limbs were spilling over the chair, but still somehow keeping his elegance.

Alfie was still busy sucking hickeys into the pale flesh of Tommy's neck and rubbing his clothed erection against Tommy's ass, so Tommy gave a warning scratch against the back of his neck that he was still clutching onto, not breaking eye contact with the man sitting behind Alfie. 

"Aw, you want this big cock inside your tight little hole, don't you, don't worry love, gonna fuck you so bloody good and hard, you won't be able to walk for a week, just the way you like, you little-" 

"Mr. Solomons," Tommy interrupted Alfie's horny rant with his matter of fact, cold business tone, pushing him back and away from himself, "we shouldn't make your guest wait, I reckon he's been patient enough."

Alfie frowned at Tommy before turning into the direction of Tommy's gaze, eyes widening and cursing under his breath in Yiddish as he finally spotted the man in the chair.

The stranger didn't take his eyes off of Tommy's as his grin widened, chewing around the toothpick in slow motions as he finally spoke with a heavy Italian accent, "Oh, don't let me interrupt you, I don't mind the show at all. If anything prefer it."

Alfie cleared his throat as he covered Tommy's frame with his own body mass, facing the Italian and giving his lover privacy from the other man's piercing gaze as he buttoned his shirt up, "Mr. Changretta, happy you could make it, mate. Although in our fair England people usually knock before stepping rudely into other people's offices, right? We've got manners and shit. Reckon you could use some." Alfie really hated to be blue-balled.

Changretta finally looked away from Tommy and trained his gaze to the other man, although less appreciatively, "Terribly sorry for interrupting your session with your rentboy, but I like to be punctual and arrive to a meeting at the given time."

Tommy, finally done with buttoning his shirt up and now working on redressing into his waistcoat, popped off the table and cleared his own throat, but before he could retort to the rude comment regarding his determined occupation, Alfie spoke with thinly veiled anger in his voice.

"Yeah, mate, punctuality, I'm all for it, mate, really, I am, right? And my dear business partner here," he motioned towards Tommy while putting pressure on his title, "could vouch for me on that front, right Mr. Shelby? Oh, how rude of me, not introducing you properly, Mr. Changretta this is my business partner here, Mr. Thomas Shelby of the Shelby Company Limited, Mr. Shelby, that peeking perverted cunt is Mr. Luca Changretta of the bloody wops limited."

Thomas tried his hardest to seem casual before holding out his hand to shake Changretta's. The fresh marks on his neck felt like they were burning him.

"Mr. Changretta, a pleasure to meet you."

But his hand was not taken for a long minute as Changretta glued his eyes back onto Thomas' face. There was a strange glint in that greenish-grey gaze as he slowly stood up, and fuck, was Tommy right, that man was the height of a goddamn building, towering over him like that.

Tommy had to crane his neck uncomfortably to keep the eye contact, and why was the man stepping so fucking close?

"Thomas Shelby," Changretta seemed to taste the name in his mouth for a few seconds, taking his toothpick out before finally taking Tommy's offered handshake but instead of actually shaking it, he turned and lifted Tommy's hand so that the back of it could make contact with his lips in a kiss. Tommy felt frozen at the motion.

Luca kept his lips there too long to be polite, all the while his eyes trained on Tommy's. Did the man blink at all? He finally lifted his face away with a smirk, "Is that the name you go by now, hm? How plain, you could have chosen something better, no?"

Tommy felt puzzled and a bit frightened. What was he talking about? He became suddenly aware that Changretta did not let go of his hand when it was pulled to the other man's face again so that he could now kiss his palm.

"The haircut too, such a shame, loved pulling on it before, but I guess you just wanted to change a bit too drastically to avoid recognition. Silly boy. Thinking you can escape so easily."

Changretta was by now kissing his wrist, his other hand coming to hold onto Tommy's waist, and oh Lord, that was a huge fucking hand, both together might be able to reach around his middle completely.

"But don't worry, if you come with me now, I promise I'll not punish you too badly. I'll even forgive your little fraternizing with that dirty Jew if you act like a good boy. I would hate it if anything happened to your beautiful face, you know that, my love."

Alfie suddenly came to the rescue as he pulled Tommy back and away from the other man, effectively freeing Tommy from Changretta's grasp and pressing him tightly to his side.

"Excuse the fuck out of you mate, but if you could please not fucking devour my partner right in front me, right, that would be greatly appreciated. Also, could you please be so fucking kind and explain your lunatic rambling from earlier to the rest of us? 'Cause, I don't know about you, but it did not seem to make much sense to me, mate."

Changretta looked mildly irritated at the interruption of his moment with Tommy, but it was only fair, considering his sudden entrance, "Your lovely business partner there is nothing but a lying whore, he's only using you for your money," his tone turned murderous, "I just know, I paid the price of his attention and lost millions of dollars when he left me. And only later did I find out that I was only one of the many men he wrapped around his pretty little finger."

Tommy frowned, "What are you talking about? I've never met you before in my life."

Changretta stepped threateningly closer, towering over the both of them with a cruel smile, "Sweetheart, you really think that works on me? That with a name change and a haircut I'll forget the face of the little slut that ruined me? I loved you, but not enough to not make you regret what you've done, Bobby. But if you come back to me now, I might go easier on you, then I've planned."

Tommy felt the color drain from his face at the same time as Alfie turned to him with wide eyes.

"Tommy... did your dear brother that happens to have a hobby of robbing rich older men scam the Italian-American mafia? And you forgot to mention that to me, mate?"

Tommy slowly turned to Alfie as well "How was I supposed to know that?!" he was suddenly feeling furious, "You think I ask my brother 'Oh, Robert, who did you ride for that Rolex?' or 'What was the occupation of that man who's dick you sucked last week for those shoes? Geez, I hope he was not part of the fucking mafia'?" his voice rose to a shouting level.

"If said brother happens to be your fucking twin and share the same fucking face with you, maybe you should, love," Alfie shouted back.

Changretta snorted from next to them, "You think I'm some kind of an idiot? Thinking I'll believe in the clichée identical twin story-" but before he could finish his sentence the door opened loudly to reveal Ollie who looked about two seconds away from a heart attack.

"Mr. Solomons, it's Mr. Shelby, he showed up again, but-" and from behind him peeked out a curious Robert, holding five bags of designer clothing, which he immediately dropped when seeing Changretta.

The air froze together with Robert as the Italian turned towards the door with a disbelieving look on his face. Alfie sighed after a minute, "Yeah, mate, I feel you on that one."

Changretta's surprise melted away as he slowly moved his long legs closer and closer to a now shaking and terrified Robby as his unnerving grin reappeared, speaking in a low and dangerous tone "Hello there, Bobby," he reached out with a large hand to sweep away gently a stray lock of hair from Robert's forehead, caressing over his paling face, "missed me, babyboy?"

The absolute terror on his brother's face did not escape Tommy nor did the small whimper that he gave out at the physical contact. His eyes were shining brightly with fresh tears bubbling up, still unable to look away from the much taller man. 

And suddenly Tommy remembered talking to Robert in the bathroom the night he came back to Birmingham, covered in various marks from the face down, some purple, some still freshly healed cuts. Robby was in tears when he explained that the man who's money his little boyfriend and his friends stole away from him did it. He remembered Robert's whimpering as Tommy put salve on a nasty cut on his back.

"Mr. Changretta likes to use his belt sometimes when I'm naughty, but never this hard before. I thought that he would kill me."

Tommy felt rage and protectiveness overtake him.

"Robert, run. Now." Tommy growled as he reached for Alfie's desk drawer for his gun. Changretta noticed the movement from the edge of his vision as he turned back around. Robert immediately took his chance and bolted through the door before Tommy cocked the gun and fired.


	5. And I like the way you taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Robby backstory no one asked for, but we all deserve...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for the added tags folks, this one is a Lana del Rey song as a fucking fic... Also check out my tumblr at abusivelittlebunny to see my art of our beautiful Bobby boy!!

Robert knew that most of his family looked down on him for how he earned his wealth. Thieving, cheating, blackmail, and murder was fine with them, but using his body was below them? A bunch of hypocrites they were, the lot of them.

Both he and his siblings tried their hardest to climb out of poverty, it was not his fault that he was less attracted to cutting people in corners and ransacking bookies and more interested in expensive dinners and soft pampering on silk sheets. He already got the looks, what harm is there in using them?

He first realized the raw power he held in his physical appearance at fifteen. He was strolling around the shopping district, taking home the vegetables aunt Pol asked for, gazing dreamily at the pretty displays of the tailor shop. He did not notice the gentleman before the shop before he ran into him headfirst.

He stammered his apologies and kept his head low, silently praying to avoid the beating such acts followed around here. It was to his pleasant surprise when a warm, large hand gently lifted his chin to look the man in the eyes. He was around his fifties, smartly dressed, graying temples on slicked-back black hair, almond cut, warm brown eyes adorned with crow's feet as he smiled under his mustache at Robert. 

"Now what do we have here?" Robert noted how the stranger's rumbling voice made his stomach flutter, which he first thought was due to hunger.

"I didn't mean to, sir, I'm sorry, I was careless..." he knew he sounded pathetic and small, but he daren't anger the man.

The gentleman just chuckled and using the hand still holding Robby's face he turned his head slowly left and right, inspecting him like he was a product on the market as well.

"Quite alright, son, saw you eyeing the window and didn't step back," he pulled Robert closer, eliciting a small whimper from the boy, "thought to myself 'Would be a shame to stop such a pretty little thing from falling into my arms'."

Robby couldn't help the blush from spreading across his cheeks. Him? Pretty? How could he be pretty if he was covered in dirt and wore rugged, too big clothing, full of holes and stitches, borrowed from Arthur, who received it from dad? He looked like a regular street rat.

The man pointed with his cane towards the shop, "Do you want to wear fancy clothes like that, son?" Robert nodded eagerly, as much as the hand still on his face allowed, "You have to be clean to wear clean clothes, don't you? Do you want to get clean and wear clean, fancy clothes?" 

"Yes, sir," he breathed, feeling heat pool in his belly. He wanted so much.

The man grinned like a wolf at a sheep, all hunger and ill-intent, but Robby didn't care for the warning signs, "Then come with me and I'll give you what you want."

That night he spent feeling like a prince; the man took him to his expensive car, drove him to his hotel, and had him thoroughly cleaned by his maid, in fact afterwards he was cleaner than ever before, smelling like roses and lilies, his previously knotty and greasy hair bounced softly with every step he took in his beautiful new clothes. 

The man adorned him with the most expensive materials, it was all too pretty as he giggled at himself in the mirror, spinning around to get a good look. The gentleman looked at him with hooded eyes, sipping on his whiskey before coming up behind him to lean down and wrap his arms around his middle.

"Do you like it, son?" he whispered hotly into his ear, lips brushing against silky, chocolate-colored locks.

"I love it." He bit his lip, the body pressed close to him making him feel warm and fuzzy.

The man pressed a wet kiss to the side of his neck, making him shudder, "Then you can thank me properly, can't you, son?"

"Thank you, sir." But his gratefulness only earned gentle tutting as the man ground his crotch against his clothed bottom.

"Call me daddy," the husky whisper confused Robert. This man wasn't his father. His father was cruel and always drunk, beating him and his twins daily. Calling him a worthless little shit. He would never pamper him like this, would never be this kind.

"I wish you were my daddy," and he barely breathed out the word when the man attacked his neck, sucking a hickey into the tender flesh with a groan, making Robby moan at the sensation.

The man unbuttoned his new pants with hurried movements, pushing them down his thighs and palming at the exposed skin, "I am your daddy for the night, baby boy."

For his first time, the man was a bit rough, but it still was the best thing he ever had in his fifteen years. His moans of "Daddy" earned him delicious pleasure and after the man fucked him more times then he cared to count he was properly fed and given more food and clothes to take home. He didn't regret it one bit, smiling to himself as he limped away from the hotel.

When he got back home, much later than expected, displaying all the treasure he could earn his family, his real father asked him where he got all these fancy things and when he honestly answered the man beat him within an inch of his life. It was not unusual, his twins received similar treatment for less. Even aunt Pol gave him a couple of slaps at the sight of the marks the man left behind, calling him a filthy little whore. His beautiful new clothes were forcibly shared with the others, some even taken apart to mend other clothes or fabrics and he stumbled to bed with pain shooting through his body.

He huddled closer to his twins for warmth, who were all whispering comforting words to him and dreamed about the man he called daddy that night and smiled to himself. He was so happy with him. He wanted that feeling and that luxury all the time.

It was to no one's surprise when the next day he ran away from home. With only a note left behind, saying "I'll never come back."

He stumbled back to the hotel, all battered and bruised and asked for the man who's name he still didn't know, only his room number. He was almost kicked out when the man from last night stepped into the lobby, wide eyes looking frantically over his beaten form. He ran into the man's arms without a second thought, holding him close and breathing in his expensive cologne.

"Take me away, Daddy." He looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, "Take me and never bring me back, please. I'll be your good boy, Daddy."

Within a week he was eating eclairs on silk sheets looking out from the windows of the luxurious suite they were staying in. So this is what America looked like, huh.

He turned from street rat to an elegant little prince, the way Mr. Saito was treating him. Every day all he had to do was eat delicious food, wear beautiful clothes, and get fucked into the bed while he screamed "Daddy".

He was a pretty accessory on the man's arm at formal dinners, calling him Daddy while everyone knew that the connection they had was anything but biological. He loved the shopping Mr. Saito took him to after he neglected him when busy with work, he loved the temptation he posed to clients and business partners and he loved being plowed by that glorious man who gave him everything he wanted and asked for.

It was a shame when Mr. Saito was assassinated, but he was quickly taken in by another wealthy business partner of his and quickly established a routine of falling into another wealthy older man's lap who would treat him right the moment the previous one died in mysterious circumstances. He never wanted to let go of his precious lifestyle.

Then he met Luca Changretta.

Robert was in a fancy Italian designer boutique looking at various lovely shoes while his current sugar daddy was off having a meeting. He was the busiest one so far, some canning company owner with a wife and kids. Not that Robby minded staying in hotel rooms and shopping around, but only getting dicked down every other week, (if even that, the man was in his sixties and got tired far too fast) was making him bored and lonely. 

Also, his allowance was a bit more strict than with the previous men. This one was afraid that his wife might find out about him due to his spending. It was frustrating.

So he was only looking around, not actually being able to buy any of the tasteful products. He already spent his daily cash on some lacy lingerie, which was now in a neat little bag hanging off his harm.

He didn't look up as the door opened and various sharply dressed men stepped in. He was pouting at a particularly pretty pair of dress shoes, mentally bidding it goodbye, when he felt a presence directly behind himself, blocking the light and casting a shadow over him.

He turned back to see a very tall and handsome older man smiling down at him. He looked astonishingly good, elegance and wealth seeming to drip from every pore, green eyes glinting dangerously with a distinct hunger as his gaze roamed over Robby's whole form. It was lust at first sight.

"A good choice, I must say. Very beautiful," he smirked around the toothpick in his mouth as he paused to observe Robby's face, "will suit you just fine."

Robert felt a familiar heat creep into his cheeks and his mouth part slightly, wanting to say thank you, but no words seemed to come out. He suddenly felt insanely aroused from the attention of the attractive man looming over him. God, he was so tall and broad, Robby felt dainty and delicate with him this close.

His gaze shifted as he noticed that the men, that the stranger arrived into the boutique with, littered around; some paid close attention to the two of them, some lingered at the desk of the shopkeep who pulled out some fat envelopes and handed them over with a slight tremor to his hands.

The man recaptured his straying eyes with one arm coming up and over Robby's shoulder to pick up the shoes he has been eyeing, caging him against the wall for a moment and blocking his view of the other people in the shop. Robby let a soft gasp loose as he looked back up to the hungry gaze trained on him. The man could have asked to fuck him right there against the wall and he would have let it happen. Would his toes be able to touch the ground as the man took him, or would he be lifted off of it?

The older man pulled back a bit to bring the shoes into his sight, "Didn't you want to try them on?"

Robby gulped, bashfully turning his head away, "I-I can't, not now, Mr.-"

"Changretta, Luca Changretta," the man helpfully provided and turned his gaze back to him with a hand cradling Robby's jawline. He had huge hands. Robby tried to will away the blood rushing south at the thought of what those hands could do to him, "why can't you, hm?"

"I don't have enough money on me now to buy them," he licked his lips, noticing how the movement was followed with eager eyes by the older man, "Mr. Changretta," he tasted the name on his tongue.

Changretta slowly caressed his hand down from his jaw to his neck, lingering on the silky skin before moving to his shoulder to politely move Robert towards the nearest softly cushioned seat, urging him to sit with a firm but still gentle press down.

He shouldn't have looked forward and taken notice of how his face was at the same height now as the other man's crotch, because his naughty brain now provided him with visions of himself leaning forward, fishing his cock out and just sucking Mr. Changretta off like a good little slut. How big was he? With that height, he was probably long. The thought made him bite at his lower lip.

As if Luca could read his mind a large hand ran through his hair and softly pushed his head back to make Robby look back into his eyes again, which seemed blown with lust.

"Daddy didn't give you enough pocket money?" he said in a softly mocking tone, not expecting Robby to actually shyly nod, the hand still in his hair moving together with the bobbing of his head.

His eyes widened for a moment before the predatory grin returned, "Aw, you poor little thing, here let me," and he slowly kneeled with one long leg in front of Robert, taking his delicate ankle in one of his huge hands, the other removing his current shoe. He repeated the motion with the other shoe as well.

Robby's blush deepened, his breath caught in a gasp. Here was this incredibly handsome man dressing him up like a doll, holding him as if he was made of porcelain, running his long fingers up his sock-clad legs, under his pants until he could reach soft skin as he put the new shoes on him.

He tried to smother his quiet whimpers with a hand to his mouth, biting at his bent index finger as he watched the other man, but he failed as those piercing green eyes looked back at his face as he lifted one of his feet and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of the shoe. 

"Sweet boy like you shouldn't be neglected so cruelly, no? I'll buy them for you, and anything else you want, how does that sound, darling?"

Robby chewed at his finger, shyly batting his eyelashes at Luca before answering, "I shouldn't, I can only accept gifts from daddy." He wet his lips with his tongue before letting the whole truth of the situation slip, "But Mr. Bauer is too busy with work or his family to do that now. Or any other time," he sighed softly as the hands on him caressed his legs gently.

Changretta mused at that for a second, a hint of something cold flashing through his eyes, before releasing him and slowly standing. Robert missed the touch immediately but before he could pout, the large hand returned to caress through his hair.

"Bauer, you said? Very well. You live with him, sweetheart?"

Robby let out a humorless chuckle at that, leaning into Changretta's touch like a cat, "That would be the day. No, he keeps me in a hotel close by."

Changretta frowned and motioned for one of his men nearby. He hastily spoke to him in Italian, but about what, Robert didn't know or care to decipher, too busy enjoying the warm pets he was still receiving. The man departed after a minute, barking orders to the other men and exiting the shop with a few of them.

Changretta's previous cold expression disappeared the second his eyes landed back on Robby, "What is your name, darling?"

"Robert, Robert Fischer," he sighed. The last name he took up after his relationship ended with Saito. He quite liked the humor or naming himself after his hobby of fishing for rich older men.

Changretta smiled, "How would you like, Bobby," and oh, good God, the way he said that name made him almost moan, "to let me buy you some more things, whatever you'd like," Robby could have fallen asleep from the petting. Or maybe even cum, "go back to your hotel room, get all of your things, move into my apartment, and have dinner with me?"

The sudden proposition startled Robert a bit, "What about, Mr. Bauer? He'll get angry if I do that."

Luca chuckled, "Mr. Bauer will be too busy with me bankrupting him and taking away his business to care. It's time you start looking for a new daddy, Bobby. Lucky for you, I'd love to fill in the position."

Robert couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. He could feel that Changretta was dangerous, but so much? And why did it make him feel even hotter under the collar?

They left the store with plenty more shoes and visited even more boutiques before Robby led Changretta and his men back to his hotel, letting the men pack up and move out everything while he and Luca had coffee in the hotel's café. 

Changretta was not only handsome, but he was also an interesting company; intelligent, eloquent and funny, and actually paid attention to what Robert said, unlike his previous men. He honestly felt like he found the perfect match with Luca and they haven't even been to bed yet.

The Italian restaurant Changretta took him to, after changing into the new suit and shoes he bought him that day, was magnificent. Soft music played, rich guests chattering around them on the open-air terrace that overlooked the city. Robert marveled at the view while Luca marveled at him, seemingly more taken by the younger man.

It was all too perfect; the food, the atmosphere, Luca. He should have known that something had to happen to break through the bliss.

An anxious-looking man approached their table with his eyes bouncing around the room as he leaned down to whisper something to Changretta, who annoyedly tried to shoo the man away, not letting his gaze slip away from Robert's face.

"Later, Sergio, I'm having dinner with someone important," Luca said in English to include Robby, making him blush.

But Sergio seemed persistent, harshly whispering in Italian, hands shaking, his eyes meeting Robert's nervously. Robby gave a pitying glance at the man, turning with a sad smile back to Luca. Well, it was a good night while it lasted. 

"It's alright if you have to go, really. I don't want to distract you in any way. You already sacrificed so much of your time on me. You must be quite busy, but that is fine, I'm used to it by now. You already made me feel more happiness today than I had in the last few years," he gave a sad little chuckle.

Changretta's eyes widened a little at the confession. Sergio, still leaning close, nodded gratefully and whispered again to Luca but he could not finish his sentence as his throat was stabbed through with Changretta's dinner knife.

Robert barely registered Luca's lightning-fast movement, the only evidence of the fact that it was he who impaled the other man on his utensil was that he still held onto it, twisting the knife before pulling it out harshly, letting fresh blood splatter across the table from the wound.

Robert froze as he watched Sergio collapse onto the ground with wet gurgling sounds, choking on his own blood, clasping at his neck. He heard the music stop, the people around them turn silent, but could not look around at them, only at the slowly and painfully dying man convulsing on the ground.

He jumped as something touched his cheek and looked back to Changretta who was reaching across the table to wipe away the blood that landed on Robert's face with his napkin. He didn't seem one bit remorseful, only interested in cleaning Robby up properly.

"I'm sorry, Bobby love, that that pig ruined our dinner," he seemed satisfied enough with his work and dropped the napkin to the side as he stood up, "let me make it up to you with the best gelato that can be found in the city, hm?"

Changretta offered his hand to help Robby up, who was still in shock, trembling as he took the offer after a minute, noticing how the man's other hand was still coated with blood.

He knew he should have run away, scream for help, anything to get away from Luca who just murdered a man in cold blood. But somehow under his bone-chilling fear, an impossible heat started pooling in his belly. Luca Changretta killed a man to stay with him. His dangerous and perfect man.

Robby slowly wrapped his arms around Luca, clawing at his back to pull him close so he could bury his nose into Changretta's blood-covered chest and breathe in his scent, expensive cologne mixed with death and danger, making him shudder. Large hands hesitantly wrapped around him, Luca clearly did not expect the affection.

"Bobby?"

Robert sniffled, not even realizing before the tears slipping from his eyes, "Take me home, Daddy."

Changretta held him through the car ride, petting his hair and back, whispering sweet nothings into his hair as Robby sat on his lap sniffling quietly. He didn't know what got him to cry for sure; the murder he just witnessed, the realization of how dangerous Luca really is, or how much it all turned him on.

Luca led him towards the bedroom's ensuite bathroom, holding him close and murmuring into his hair about how Bobby probably wanted that filthy pig's blood off of him. But Robert just paused him in front of the bed and looked up at him with tear-, and blood-stained cheeks, biting at his lower lip as he finally got a good look at Changretta's state.

His shirt was covered in blood and wrinkled from where Robby clutched onto it, his face speckled with red and previously neatly slicked-back hair messed up a bit. He looked so fucking hot.

Robby pulled Luca's head down with the help of his tie and leaned up on his tiptoes to meet him halfway in a sweet and wet kiss. His trembling stopped as Changretta's hold on him tightened. 

Robert pulled back with a soft gasp, lips still unable to completely leave the other man as he mouthed at Luca's jaw and cheek, "I want you now, Daddy, please."

Changretta let out a low groan and picked Robby up just to throw him on the bed, shrugging out of his suit jacket and loosening his tie as he moved, looming over the younger man and settling between his spread legs, quickly recapturing his lips.

Robert moaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Luca's shoulders and letting the other man tug his pants off together with his underwear and throw them to the side without breaking their lip-lock. Robby shimmied out of his own jacket and shirt, leaving himself bare as he laid on the pile of blood-stained clothes.

Changretta leaned back up and stood to round the bed hurriedly to retrieve a bottle of lube and return between Robby's thighs, kissing the tender and pale flesh as he threw one of his legs over his shoulder.

"Do you want me to make love to you, Bobby?" he mouthed into Robert's skin.

Robby mewled his answer, "More than I've ever wanted anything before, Daddy," and it scared him how true it was. 

"Good boy." Luca smiled as he coated, his fingers with the clear substance he brought over, and slipped one inside of the smaller man's hole.

Robert gasped at the intrusion but welcomed the feeling of those long fingers stretching him open slowly and thoroughly. By the time the third finger slipped in he was an incoherent mess, drowning in lust and remembering how Sergio was drowning in his own blood an hour ago. He died by the same hand that was now inside him, gently massaging at his prostate.

The thought made him cum with his moan swallowed by Changretta, making the older man chuckle into their kiss. He fucked him slowly with his fingers through it.

"You're so perfect, Bobby, my beautiful angel," he peppered wet kisses down Robby's throat, all the way to his chest. His fingers still working his insides as he spoke, "the moment I saw you, I knew I'd kill anyone to have you like this."

Robert cried sweetly as his spent little cock gave an interested twitch at the sweet words. God, if he wasn't fucked up before he sure as hell was now, evidently.

Changretta kissed him all over his body before returning to his lips and unbuckling his belt. He barely leaned away, breathing the words into Robby's wanton mouth, "I'll make you so happy, my love. So happy, you'll never want to leave."

Robert licked at the dried blood littering Luca's face, "You already make me that happy, Daddy. Happier than anyone else could make me," his last word was melted into a high-pitched moan as the other man slid his length into him slowly.

His daydreaming was correct, Changretta was big. So big that when he paused to catch his breath and let Robby under him shiver at the full feeling, he chuckled down at him, "So good Bobby, so good for me, can you take the other half too?"

Robert screamed as the rest of Changretta's cock slid inside him, his nails clawing at his still-clothed back, spread legs locking together around Luca's waist to keep him there. He needed a few minutes to adjust, this was by far the biggest dick he has ever gotten inside.

He didn't even notice the fresh tears spilling out until he felt Changretta kiss them away on his cheeks, praising him through it with soft words mouthed into his skin. He only started moving when Robby was ready and grinding up against him eagerly. He was so gentle and sweet it made Robert cry more, pull him closer.

Robby breathed into their kiss after finishing once more on his belly with a soft cry, "Come inside me, Daddy, please, I want to feel how happy I make you. I love you."

Luca softly bit at his lip as he finished inside him and pulled Robert with himself, making them turn on the bed, so instead of crushing the delicate boy under his weight, it was Changretta laying on his back with Robby straddling him, careful to not let his softening cock slip out of the used hole, keeping his release in.

Luca pet his back and hair, pressing kisses to his cheeks as their heart rate slowly turned back to normal. Robby sleepily leaned up to press his lips to the older man's. He felt so happy and content.

"Did you mean it?" Changretta suddenly asked against his parted lips, "You love me?" he sounded hopeful, making Robby blush as leaned into the next kiss.

"I did. I think I love you," he smiled, feeling loose-limbed and light, "so much that it scares me, Daddy."

Luca pulled him into a tight hug, pressing a long kiss to his forehead before saying, "Bobby, darling, you just made me the happiest man in the world. Don't be scared, I'll never let you go, ever. I love you too."

And Robby's heart never felt more full as he nuzzled closer to his lover, letting himself doze off into a blissful sleep.

Changretta was by far his most generous sugar daddy, getting him anything, dressing him in silk, diamonds, and pearls, fucking him gently every night, and keeping him close at all times, never letting Robby get bored, letting him rest in his lap in meetings, holding him with a hand around his waist at formal dinners.

Dinners such as this one. That faithful night that changed everything.

They were attending some fancy gala in some even fancier hotel, Luca trying to avoid shoptalk in favor of burying his nose into Robby's soft hair as they wrapped around each other at the bar.

"I don't want to let you go. Bastards should let me bring you into the meeting." He rumbled into the hug, sounding annoyed but kissing the side of Robby's face gently.

Robert chuckled as he softly pushed the taller man back, looking up and into his eyes with a small smile, "They even explained to me that this meeting is super confidential and that there are no pets allowed. It's fine, I don't think it'll last an hour, I'll be good and stay here," he brushed his hand over Luca's cheek, letting the other man grasp it and lean into the motion to press a kiss to his palm.

"It kills me to not see your beautiful face for even a moment, my love."

Robert beamed at his words and leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips before gently shooing him away and towards the sharply suited men waiting for them to stop making out and get on with the business. 

He hated being away from Luca as well, but he knew that the man had responsibilities and he already spent every moment he could with Robby. He sighed as he leaned against the bar and looked at his drink with a small smile. He could wait for him.

"You are very lovey-dovey," a deep voice spoke next to him, startling Robby a little, "it makes me almost get a tooth-ache with how sweet you are to him, such a perfect little toy."

Robby was ready to tell the man to fuck off, but as he looked towards the owner of the voice, all of his complaints died. He was very handsome, neatly styled brown hair, short beard adorning his face with full, kiss-me-lips, and warm dark eyes. His smirk was full of humor with no ill-intent visible.

"Do you enjoy being someone's little lapdog? That's why you let them treat you like a pet instead of a proper person?" the stranger sounded genuinely curious as he sipped his own drink, an amber-colored liquid that Robert faintly recognized as rum from the smell.

Robby looked the man over; he was well built, muscles stretching his dark shirt with every small movement, biceps bulging out even through the sleeves of the suit jacket. He was tall, but not as tall as Luca. And he seemed a bit younger as well, compared to his man. He was dressed in an expensive suit but did not give off an aura off of a wealthy man.

Robert scoffed as he turned back to the bar, trying to ignore the man, but he didn't seem to be easily ignored as he spoke again.

"Aw, pet, you don't like what's on the menu?" he gestured to himself with a chuckle, "The menu certainly likes what's on you, but even more what's under it," he added in a low tone, making Robby shudder and blush.

He tried to recover from the frustrating comment with a glare directed back to the attractive stranger, "The menu can fuck right off if he keeps calling me names like that."

The man mused and leaned in closer into his personal space, too close to be considered polite, "Then what names do you like to be called, hm? Sweetheart? Baby? Angel?" his lips brushed his cheek as he whispered, "Whore?"

Robert quickly pulled back with wide eyes, flush spreading all over his face from embarrassment and arousal. Damn, that man had quite a mouth on him. He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down.

"Robert. Robert Fischer."

The man's grin widened, "The ones I just said suit you better," then reached out with a large, strong hand, "Eames."

Robert hesitantly took the outstretched hand to shake it but instead, Eames brought it to his mouth to press a soft kiss to the back of his hand. Robert shuddered at the feel of those lips on his skin.

"Mr. Changretta will have your head if he finds out about our interaction."

Eames' grin didn't falter as he still held onto his hand, "Your owner? Yeah, I know the guy, I guessed he wouldn't take kindly to others touching his property."

But he still didn't let go of him not even when Robert gave a weak tug to get his hand back, "So you want to die a miserable death because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself?"

Eames chuckled and pressed another whiskery kiss to Robby's hand, "If you actually hated my attention, I would notice it. Like I can notice how you love my hands on you."

The younger man parted his lips to deny the truth, but Eames spoke again.

"Besides, if I get to do this, it'd be worth it," but before he could ask what he meant, Eames leaned in close and pressed a small kiss to Robert's lips, pulling back with a wide grin.

Robert felt his mind shut down. This incredibly handsome stranger just kissed him, knowing full well what fate it could earn him. He wanted to kiss him again.

"You are a pretty thing, but that does not mean you have to be someone's thing," Eames finally let go of him, sipping at his drink again, "If you want to be loved that could be achieved without selling yourself."

"I like to belong to him. I love him. And he loves me." Robert said defiantly, weakly glaring at the older man.

Eames chuckled, "Interesting way of showing it," he took another sip before turning back to the flustered boy, "If you ever want someone to show you what love really feels like, give me a call, would you, sweetheart?"

But before Robby could stammer an answer, he heard familiar steps approach him. He turned from the bar to see Luca make his way back to him with a dangerous expression. He knew that look by heart now; shoulders squared, posture carefully rigid, tight fists at his sides, jaw clenched tightly, lips a paper-thin line pursed around a toothpick, eyes glinting darkly, narrowed with a calculating glare directed towards the man next to Robert.

Changretta wanted to hurt Eames. And he didn't even know what the other man said or done. Then he would surely murder him painfully and slowly right there. Robert found himself shivering at the thought.

He quickly stepped forward to shield Eames and wrapped his arms around Luca's middle, burying his face into his chest to distract his lover.

"Missed you so much, Daddy," he could swear he heard Eames' fingers tighten around his glass behind himself, "How was your meeting?"

Changretta finally tore his glare away from glaring a hole through Eames' skull to smile gently down at Robby, "Just fine, Bobby," he redirected his gaze back to the man still sitting at the bar, voice dripping with venom as he spoke again, "Who's your little friend?"

Of course, he had to emphasize that Eames was shorter.

Robert heard Eames clear his throat before answering in a polite and fake-cheerful tone, "Mr. Changretta, let me just say, it's a true honor to make your acquaintance," Robby turned to watch Eames plaster a steely smile on his face as he reached out in an offered handshake that Luca pointedly did not take, "I'm Eames Abernathy, I provide security for the better part of the guests invited. Only the best. I was just offering my services to your kind partner over here," he gestured nonchalantly towards the younger man.

Luca tightened his hold around Robby, "We do not need your services, Mr. Abernathy."

Eames chuckled, "That's not what I heard, with all due respect, Mr. Changretta. Or didn't you just have a top-secret meeting regarding how your family got robbed last week? It was quite a hefty sum they took if I know correctly. And I'm sure I do. I have very good connections. Connections that I could help you with."

Robby's eyes widened at that and snapped his gaze back up to a now fuming Luca.

He remembered last week his lover stormed back home stressed and angry, throwing a vase against the wall and shouting at his men as Robby got out of the swimming pool. The short and low-cut white swimsuit plastered to his thin frame was enough to snap Changretta's attention to him.

He approached the taller man who sighed, calming down a bit by his lover's presence, and heavily sat down in one of the terrace chairs, lighting a cigar and watching Robby come closer, water dripping from him, glistening like diamonds.

Robert nudged his hand with his wet and exposed thigh, shyly offering a small smile, "Is everything alright, Daddy? Would you like to join me in the pool? The water is very nice."

Changretta tiredly smiled at his sweet boy, caressing the wet leg in his reach, taking another puff from his cigar and loosening his tie before answering, "You make even hell alright, Bobby. It's fine, I'll just watch you from here. I'm too exhausted to move right now, go ahead, baby boy."

Robby hummed and kneeled between Luca's spread thighs, "Let me help you relax first, Daddy," he whispered sweetly as he fished out the older man's cock, giving it a wet kiss before taking it into his mouth with a happy moan. He loved pleasuring Luca with his mouth.

Changretta groaned as he leaned back, taking another drag of his cigar while his other hand carded through Robby's drenched locks, letting the younger man bob his head slowly around his length. Robert looked up with watering eyes as he took him as far as he could without gagging. He still had to train his throat to be able to take the older man all the way, but he has come far already.

"Bobby, my love, if heaven isn't in your eyes, then it must be in your mouth."

Robert gratefully hummed and licked at the underside, sucking gently and swallowing around the cock in his mouth, loving the weight of it on his tongue. Giving blowjobs was his favourite hobby and he excelled in it.

He let Luca come down his throat, swallowing every drop, and kept him in his mouth for a while, letting him rest and warm his spent length there for as long as he liked as he received loving pets to his still-wet hair.

"It's all going to be alright," Changretta sighed, looking down at Robby with pure adoration in his eyes, "I'll take care of everything, Bobby. You take care of me so well."

So that was what angered him so much. He had no idea his family got robbed. Robby felt guilty at how Luca still didn't hesitate to buy him anything afterwards. He nuzzled closer in his arms.

Changretta noticed his movement and sighed, tone turning less threatening as he spoke again to Eames, "What can you offer, Mr. Abernathy?"

Eames visited their home often the following few weeks, adjusting security and talking about his methods in great detail to Changretta, who seemed annoyed by his presence, but let him live, due to Robby's soft begging.

Robert quite liked Eames, he realized. He was a funny and smart man, not to mention hotter than hell. Having quiet conversations tucked away where the couldn't be seen for a few minutes. He could easily make him laugh with only a couple of words.

He often caught him staring when Luca wasn't looking too; dark eyes glinting lustfully as he watched Robby lounge or walk around the house. He also took his every chance to somehow touch Robby when they weren't being observed, which were rare occasions. Just a soft touch to his arm, back, waist. Robby craved more.

One time, just after getting out of the swimming pool and drying his hair with a soft towel, Robert felt someone watching him. He thought it must have been Luca, he must have arrived early from the family meeting, no one else would ever dare to observe him like that. Robby smiled to himself and turned around, opening his mouth to greet his lover. His voice dying as he saw who was actually paying him attention.

Leaning against the doorway was Eames, watching him with a hungry gaze. Robby flushed, he was very exposed; the tight little red swimsuit he was in barely covered him; it was custom made to expose most of his chest and back in a V shape, held together with ribbons crisscrossing across his pale skin.

Eames pushed himself away from the door and slowly prowled closer, a predator cornering its prey. Only Robby's last instinct was to get away. He felt impossibly magnetized to the other man. He was frozen on the spot, letting Eames stand mere centimeters away and inspect him with a small smirk.

Eames reached out with a hand, stroking his fingers slowly over Robby's glistening chest, his eyes watching the movement hungrily. Robert shuddered and stepped back and away, looking around nervously.

"Don't, someone will see, and Luca can come back any minute, and he'll-" but his rambling was halted by large hands cradling his face and pulling him closer into a soft kiss.

Robby gasped into the other man's mouth, weakly trying to push him back, but it just made the older man deepen the kiss and pull him closer with a strong arm moving to wrap around his small waist, earning wet patches to his suit.

Eames only pulled back from the kiss to give Robert a small smile as the younger man panted for breath, "I don't care what that fucking prick will do. I'd die a hundred deaths and crawl back from hell to be with you, Robert."

Robby gasped and felt tears prickling his eyes as his lips quivered, "I-I can't, Eames, I can't let you die, please, I..." he swallowed, the realization hitting him like a train, "I love you," he whispered softly, mortified at his own confession.

Eames smiled and leaned in to give him another deep kiss, beard tickling Robert's smooth skin, pulling back only for a moment to whisper, "I know. I love you too."

The words made Robert go a little insane with want.

Robby let him untie the ribbons holding his swimsuit together, peeling him out of the wet fabric and leading him slowly back and towards the door without letting his mouth leave the younger man's skin. Robert gasped when Eames suddenly picked him up, strong arms holding him easily, but quickly wrapped his legs and arms around the broad man, letting himself be carried in and to the bedroom.

The bed was still unmade from when Luca fucked him only a few hours ago into the sheets, it made guilt pool in his stomach, but his thoughts were interrupted as Eames bit at his throat, no doubt leaving a very visible mark, startling Robby enough to push him back a bit and away from his body.

"No, Eames, please, we can't, he'll come back soon and will know, and I-" he broke out in a sob, "I can't betray him. I can't. I love him, Eames. I can't let him hurt you."

Eames took his hands in his grasp, kissing them sweetly as he murmured, "He won't, I swear," looking deeply into Robby's eyes, "It's alright, just tell him you didn't want it."

Robby sobbed again, letting the tears spill freely, "But I want it. So badly. I want you," he shuddered when Eames recaptured his lips, and gasped wetly into the kiss, "I don't want you to die because of me."

Eames let out a sad chuckle and reached for the bottle of lube still laying at the foot of the bed to slick a few fingers up, "He'll want to kill me one way or another. Let's make it worth it, sweetheart," he said as he pushed two thick fingers into Robert's still tender entrance, making him whimper.

Eames made quick work on fingering him, he was still a little loose from his morning activities and roughly shoved himself in without warning. He was not as long as Luca, but still quite big, and very, very thick. Unlike Changretta's slow, gentle and sensual pace, Eames was like a wild animal, rutting harshly into Robby's delicate body, taking what he wanted with abandon and teeth eagerly marking up all the skin that was available to him, making Robby scream at the brutal pace. It felt glorious.

Eames took Robby's small, neglected cock in his calloused hand, barely giving him a single stroke and he was coming between their bellies with his nails dragging down the broad back that he was holding onto with an animalistic shriek.

Eames came inside with a low groan, pumping Robby full with his release, pulling out after a minute, chest heaving, and giving a toothy grin to Robby, who now looked like a fucked out mess.

He leaned down to give him another deep kiss before quickly getting up and off of the bed, turning towards the dresser and rummaging through before returning with two of Changretta's ties, wiping the come off of Robby's belly with one, then taking both of Robby's limp hands and tying them to the headboard with the other one tightly, making the younger man wince.

"Sorry, love," he pressed a soft kiss to Robert's forehead, "It's just for appearance's sake," he smoothed back his hair and looked deep into his eyes, "I'll come back for you, I swear. I love you, never forget that."

But before Robby could voice his protest Eames pressed one last kiss to his lips, tasting like a bitter goodbye. He took the tie that he cleaned him up with and fastened it around the younger man's mouth, effectively gagging him, and hurried out of the room with a pained look on his face after fixing his clothes as much as he could.

After Robert was left alone, fucked out and tied to the bed, he finally let himself break down and cry, muffled with the tie in his mouth. He wasn't sure what made him finally break; his fear for Eames' life, or how he betrayed his other love.

He was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably even as he heard Changretta come home, his shouts booming through the whole house.

He found him like that, a complete and utter mess on the bed. Luca was wide-eyed and startled for only a minute before fury overtook his features. He barked harsh orders in Italian behind himself, presumably to his men before storming up to the bed and hastily untying his lover. He was shaking with anger.

"I'll gut that goddamn motherfucker, I'll tear him to shreds, Eames and his fucking miserable little companions, I'll cut them and their fucking families, I'll burn them all to the ground-" his seething was cut short as a finally untied Robert jumped into his arms, holding him close, still trembling and crying.

"Daddy, I'm so sorry-" but he was pulled back roughly so that Luca could inspect him more thoroughly, eyes displaying nothing but burning rage at the bitemarks and hickeys left behind by Eames. His gaze traveled lower, his large hands pulling apart Robert's quivering thighs, displaying his used hole, still dripping with Eames' seed. Changretta roared in utter fury as he moved from the bed towards the door, grabbing for his gun from the dresser.

"I'll kill him. Kill them all. How fucking dare he-" but Robert leaped from the bed, weakly circling his arms around Luca's middle from behind, trying to hold him back. Eames barely left twenty minutes ago, he could not have been far. If Changretta catches him now, he'll surely not survive.

"Please, don't, please it's fine-" and that made Luca turn with disbelief overtaking his features.

"You don't want me to hurt the bastard that robbed us of millions?!" he clutched at Robby's trembling shoulders, "The fucker that raped you?!"

He was shouting at him now, terrifying him to the core. He never shouted at Robert before.

Robby stammered over his tears, "Please, daddy, don't-, he didn't-", but his protests turned into a pained gasp as the hands on him tightened.

Luca seethed dangerously through his teeth in a harsh whisper, "Don't fucking tell me you were in on it. Did you fucking enjoy it?! Did you fucking part your slutty little legs and let him force himself on you and tie you up?!" Robert could only whimper, frightened for his life. 

Changretta threw him on the bed, non-too-gently, and loomed over him while he unbuckled his belt, "Did you act like a two penny whore and fucking beg for it?! Did you fucking scream his goddamn name while he spent himself inside your loose hole and thank him for it like you were no more than a fucking toilet?! Did you plan this whole thing?! Answer me you fucking little bitch!"

And Luca swatted him hard with his belt across the back of his thighs, making Robby whimper into the sheets. Changretta has punished him before, spanked him mostly, sometimes used his belt, but it was all safe and soft, and only when he got too bratty. Those sessions were always mutually enjoyed and were followed by mind-blowing sex and sweet aftercare. 

This time Luca wanted to hurt him. Badly. 

Robby had no time to recover, the blows kept on raining down on him at every exposed inch; his back, his bottom, his thighs, his belly, his arms shielding his head. The belt-buckle bit into his skin, drawing blood at every blow. He hasn't been beaten so badly since his last night in Birmingham. 

As the slurs and swats rained down on him he felt his mind slip back to twelve years ago, crying on the dirty ground as his father's drunken voice screamed about what a fucking worthless whore he was. He felt himself freeze up, no longer trying to block the blows, staring into the distance at his father's imagined figure with tears freely streaming down his face.

He couldn't breathe. He wanted to draw air into his lungs, but as if his throat was blocked, he just couldn't. Convulsing on the sheets as a fish pulled out of the water. Like Sergio, five years ago, choking to death. Was he dying? Was Luca going to kill him, like he killed all those people?

He barely registered the blows stopping, pain was all he could feel, shooting through him from every inch of his skin. But the inside of his chest hurt the most, even though he didn't get hit there. He faintly realized he was feeling his heart break into a million pieces.

Suddenly he could feel Changretta crash on top of him, burying his face in his hot and bleeding skin. He was probably exhausted from all the shouting and beating he did. Robby could feel his warm breath and tears against his back. He was crying too.

Large hands brushed away Robby's hair from his forehead, making his choking for air stop. Was he going to hit his face too? Luca loved his face more than anything. A strange calm settled over him, draining him of all emotions.

The hand made him look up as Changretta loomed over him, face only a few centimeters apart, holding himself above Robby with a hand next to his head.

"Please, Bobby," his voice sounded rough and broken, eyes glistening with tears and full of sorrow. Robby noticed how the side of his cheek was smeared with fresh blood from where he leaned his head against his abused back a few moments ago, "Please tell me you didn't want it. Please tell me you didn't want him."

Robert searched his face silently for a long minute before leaning up slightly to lick away his blood on Luca's cheek, just like he licked away Sergio's blood the first time they made love. He pulled back with his own blood smeared over his lips, face still flushed and tear-stained, eyes cold and distant.

"I wanted it. I wanted him. I still want him," he sighed his next words, just staring at Luca's broken expression and widening eyes, "I love Eames. Like I love you, Daddy."

He didn't register what happened at first. He only heard the deafening crack, and his vision was suddenly snapped to the side. Only when the pain started blooming from his cheek did he realize that Changretta slapped him.

He was breathless from this one blow. Luca hurt his face. The face that he cherished and loved and couldn't stop looking away from even when he was at his angriest.

He clutched at his face with a hand and slowly turned back with wide eyes towards his lover. Changretta seemed to be also in shock at what he just did, but quickly turned away, unable to look at what he has done to Robert, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind himself. Afterwards, Robby could only hear screaming and crashing noises, but he was far too numb to care.

He winced as he moved off the bed, grabbing some clothes, dressing with pained movements. He took a bag and filled with all the clothes it could fit, grabbing his passport and his wallet, and left through the window.

He couldn't let the love of his life kill him. He could never forgive himself if he'd cause such pain to Luca.

He took a taxi all the way to the asylum he knew his brother was working at, he saw in the paper the picture of the brilliant psychologist Doctor Jonathan Crane managing Arkham Asylum. Luca didn't care for the paper and Robert never mentioned his siblings. He knew he would be safe there.

When he arrived all the nurses fussed around him, calling him Dr. Crane, asking him what happened, where were his glasses, but he could only pass out from the pain and exhaustion on the cool floor before he could ask to see his brother.

The next time he awoke, a large bald man was looming over him, asking him how he was feeling. Robby noticed that he was in lying in a soft medical bed in what was presumably Jonathan's workplace. He could only blink and clear his dry throat, "My brother,... where... Jonathan..." but the next moment his twin's face appeared with a soothing smile on his face above him.

"Quite a journey you must have had, Robby dear. I spent some time tending to your wounds. Proper way for a family reunion don't you think?"

Robert has never been happier to see his nutcase brother. He broke down, softly crying, "Help me, Nat, please..."

Jonathan's smile dissolved into a worried frown, that was a rare thing, "What happened, Robert? Who did this to you?" caressing a soft hand over his cheek.

Robert could only sob, "I can't let him get to me again, he'll kill me, he'll kill Eames, please, please, Nat, I'm not safe..."

Jonathan glanced hesitantly at the large man next to him, sharing a meaningful look, before returning his gaze to his brother, "Don't worry, Robby, we'll keep you safe," he looked back to the bald man, "Bane, honey, pack up what you can, we are going away."

The stranger answered in a deep but caring voice, "Where to, love?"

Jonathan sighed again, looking back down to Robert with a pained expression, "Home."

Robert couldn't breathe as he was running through the bakery. He felt like a deer being chased by a wolf. He felt his lungs scream at him, but he couldn't care, not about stupid air, or the various men he pushed away, just to get to the exit as fast as he could. When he got through the door and fresh air hit his face he still couldn't stop, running down the street, to where he didn't know.

He had to get away. He must. He can't let Luca kill him. He loved him too much.

He sharply turned the corner, stumbling into a warm and strong body, face first. He had to run he couldn't let this stop him, but the man he just ran into grabbed him by the arms, pulling him back to look at him. Robby tried to wriggle out of his hold, but before he could bark at him to fuck off, he looked up at the man's face, making him freeze like the other man was frozen. It couldn't be him. There is no way-

"Robert?" Eames whispered softly, with disbelief in his eyes.


	6. Some liquor and a chaser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The backstory of Crane and Bane leading up to the present, where things escalate and a new character makes appearence...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I KNOW. It's been way too long but trust me. The wait was worth it.
> 
> Song inspiration:   
> Billie Eillish x Rosalia - 1 Hour Lo Vas A Olvidar (Slow/Reverb)  
> (yes you do need the one hour version it made me bawl my eyes out while writing)

"Fascinating" was the first word Crane spoke to him. His delicate whisper would ring in his head for a long time.

The scent was the first thing that got to him, even before he fully registered someone visiting his cell; citrus, mint, something sweet and sharp seemed to radiate off the stranger's skin. Clean, delicious, and intriguing. He never smelled anything so pleasant in his life before. Bane opened his eyes and turned his head slowly to the side to see for the first time the most beautiful human being in the entire world. His appearance was like a blinding light within eternal darkness.

He remembers it clear as day how the young doctor clung to the cell bars as if it was him, that was in prison. Like he wanted nothing more than to be on the other side of the bars. His plump, pretty rosy mouth open in awe, and his eyes so bright and blue behind his glasses, studying Bane's body that has just awakened from the new presence. The porcelain skin on the boy's cheeks reddened at the notion of being caught staring, but he couldn't look away.

Bane sat up, the creaking of the old metal bed loudly punctuating his every movement, but they couldn't hide from his ears the quiet little gasps coming from his visitor. He seemed more than impressed by Bane's built, his gaze fluttering over every inch eagerly. Usually, when someone does that, Bane gets annoyed. Not now. Now he felt the need to show off their significant size difference as he stood up. The amazed look on the boy's face was well worth it. 

Bane took slow steps towards the bars, not to alarm the guards that got jumpy from his breathing alone or scare away the dainty little boy that decided to gawk at him. He was even more beautiful up close, and Bane tried to memorize every millimeter of his body as the boy craned his neck to look up at him with his pupils blown wide. 

They were both instantly magnetized towards one another.

"Dr. Crane, move away from the bars; this is an extremely dangerous individual!" one of the guards shakily shouted, afraid to come close himself.

Doctor? This boy? He seemed far too young for that. He looked like he still belonged in short trousers. Or that might just have been his fantasy.

Neither of them acknowledged the guard; the only thing that showed that the young man even heard him was his lashes fluttering as if he had been shaken awake from his dream. Bane took notice of the pink tongue that darted out to moisten the gaping rosepetal mouth on his little visitor and thought about how he wanted to reach out and touch it.

"I won't hurt you," Bane rumbled.

He didn't need to say it, but he felt like he had to. It was a simple fact. He could never hurt such a perfect creature. But Crane looked like his knees were about to give out from his words alone. What a fragile little thing.

"Thank you," Crane's whisper was laced with a dreamy tone before he cleared his throat and looked away from their eye contact to take out some documents from his briefcase, trying to maintain a semblance of professionalism. A few strands of his hair fell into his eyes. It was cute. Bane wanted to tug on it. "Mr. ... um,..."

"Bane."

Crane gave a nervous giggle that sounded like the sweetest music to his ears, "Yes, Mr. Bane," he tucked his hair back, but a few strands remained on his cheek, "My name is Dr. Crane, I'm a psychologist from Arkham Asylum, here to ask you some questions-," but Bane didn't let him finish.

"I am not insane," this was also a fact; his brain was in an above-average condition. The enhancement drugs he was given made sure of that.

To his surprise, Crane gave another giggle, but this time it sounded cold and knowing, with a deadly edge, "Sanity is quite relative, Mr. Bane. Not at all as easy to define or maintain as one would think." 

There was a glint in those pretty blue eyes that made him pause. Something told him that this slight little man wasn't the sweet innocent schoolboy that he seems to be. The young doctor intrigued him more and more by the second.

"I only have one question for the moment, a simple yes or no. I will completely understand your decision if it's a "no," and will not bother you again," Bane thought that's a pity; his rambling voice was quite sweet to listen to, "Would you be willing to participate in my research project?"

Bane studied the sly look on that lovely face for a moment before he answered, "Depends on what your research would entail, doctor."

"Just documenting your reaction to a certain chemical that I've constructed," Crane bit at his bottom lip, and Bane stepped closer to get a better look at it. He needed to memorize the picture for selfish reasons, "Results vary, but do not worry, it is not quite as drastic as your previous experiences have been. It is strictly psychological, not something that could hurt you physically."

"Only mentally?" 

"As I said, results vary," Crane tried to bat his lashes innocently, "Some only suffer mild startlement with no lasting unhealthy effects." 

Bane just raised a brow and decided to indulge the angel-faced little fiend. Not like he had anything better to do at the moment. And he wanted to see the beautiful boy for a bit longer.

"Alright. I'll agree to let you test your chemicals on me. But only because you've been the first person to ask for my permission."

Crane's smile faltered at that, "Thank you, and I'm sorry on behalf of my colleagues' awful behavior."

"Don't be; they paid for it," Bane's cold tone didn't seem to frighten the young doctor; it drew his smile shyly back on. Bane didn't allow himself to dwell on it for too long, "Get on with it, Dr. Crane."

"Right, of course," Crane nodded hastily and rummaged in his bag once more before pulling out a piece of burlap clothing, his full lips spread wide from excitement. Bane tried not to let that give him any indecent ideas, he wanted to think himself above these foolish lustful ideas, but he was only flesh and bone. He had a hunger for lovely little things.

"What I would like you to do, is to please tell me what you see within the next few seconds, alright?" 

"Alright. A small boy with a pretty face," Bane almost rolled his eyes with how the words just slipped from his mind without a thought, but the doctor's bashful reaction just made him smirk.

"N-Not now, Mr. Bane. Wait until I put this on, please," Crane stuttered, tucking his hair behind his ear as if to subconsciously give the larger man a better view.

"Just gave you a broader view for the sake of your research, doctor," Bane mused while watching the beautiful boy take his glasses off and put the hastily sewn-together mask on. Only his bright blue eyes were visible like this. It was a pity, but a "pity" like finding two diamonds instead of the whole mine.

"Thank you, now please focus."

"Alright." Bane couldn't help but smile softly down at the boy as he squirted some mild flowery-smelling gas between them. They both waited a minute before Bane spoke again.

"Is that perfume?" That might not have been the desired question because Crane huffed at his neutral reaction and used some more gas.

"What,... huh, what do you see?" the poor thing sounded so confused.

"I see..." Bane tipped his head to the side to better inspect him, "A small boy hiding his pretty face behind an ugly piece of clothing. What am I supposed to see, doctor?"

Crane's lashes fluttered at the adjectives, and Bane found it amusing how the young man became bashful from the truthful words before he turned around, walked to the guard that stood a good distance from them, and squirted a tiny fragment of the gas he used earlier on Bane. The effect was instant, and the guard started screaming for his mother in terror before passing out from fear. Bane only blinked. So this is what he meant when he said that results vary.

Crane tipped his head similarly as Bane did before as he turned back towards him and said "fascinating," once more. He walked back to him with a new unreadable glint in his eyes. Bane wanted to rip the mask off to see that face again. Maybe rip the rest of his clothing off while he's at it. He didn't know where these feral and indecent thoughts came from; the boy made him crave too much.

"Tell me, Mr. Bane, what do you fear the most?" the question danced on Crane's tongue like a crude proposal.

Bane leaned as close to the smaller man as the bars allowed, watching his long lashes flutter, "I fear that I cannot answer that question properly, Dr. Crane. If there's nothing to cherish, then there's nothing to fear."

They stared at each other for a long moment, both of them trying to read the other.

"You're quite right about that, Mr. Bane, quite right," Crane chuckled, then his voice turned into a coy purr, "I think we will have a lot of fun together, Mr. Bane." And Bane inside his head silently agreed.

Crane started to give him frequent visits, asking him questions and testing different versions of the serum on him. Some made him a little bit dizzy, while others made him feel slightly sleepy. But each time, his vision didn't seem to change. That fascinated the doctor more and more, and he took great interest in him, which Bane reciprocated. He was different from the previous people that experimented on him.

Crane was the first one that actually cared about him as a person. He listened to Bane, truly listened, and at occasions even sympathized, not like the previous doctors. And he was good at reading people, he knew when Crane lied or faked a reaction, and after catching him the first few times early on, he showed his real emotions. And that seemed to free and excite his little doctor.

Everything he said, Crane clung onto and asked about more. He wrote some things down, but it felt more like a friendly chat. He was the first person Bane ever joked with as well. And Crane laughed. And he was beautiful while doing so. 

After every visit, the younger man found himself more and more at the center of Bane's attention in a way he has never felt before. He didn't dare to even think about the word that he was referring to, not like there's a chance for it to be mutual. Bane wanted to tell Crane just how much he liked him, but he didn't want to scare him away. Not that that seemed like an easy feat, but he would rather not risk it.

So he tried to hold back his compliments and tenderness; he knew nothing good could come of it. The boy must have known his good qualities anyway. Regardless, he still blushed and smiled when Bane took verbal notice of any of his features. Not just his intelligence and precision or hard work. But also like how small he was, how delicate; how he should eat more because Bane could easily encircle his little waist with his hands and throw him around. He didn't say how much he wanted to. It wasn't even meant to be a compliment, but Crane squirmed in his seat, biting his lips, and shyly looked up at him. Like he wanted Bane to do just that too.

They spent weeks talking to each other, separated only by those bars, and Bane wanted nothing more than to just touch. But everything he touched broke. So he just let the delicate little doctor live.

Crane's visits were always the highlights of his week. He knew him for what he was and didn't seem to fear him like the others, maybe because Crane's profession entailed working with various dangerous psychopaths and mentally ill people that could harm him every day. Or maybe because his illegal side operation included a close arrangement to mobs and gangsters, smuggling them in and out of prison for a few lab rats and some funding. 

Bane asked around about the good doctor between other inmates, and he found out about his sadistic little tests early on. No surprise that Crane didn't fear him as most if he himself was feared by most.

Or the reason was that maybe he knew too much.

Bane told him about the painful experiments conducted on him, his cruel life in prison, the losing of his mother. He even told him about his physical pains, and the good doctor supplied him with handcrafted medicine for it, smuggled through the bars in candy wrappers. Crane was the first person that got concerned about him being in pain. Other people thought he was strong enough to just live with it, but Crane immediately took action to help relieve him of it.

He remembers after the first dose how strange it felt to not be in pain. How happy Crane looked when he told him that; how he promised to work hard to cure Bane out of his pains permanently. How he brought him more and more things afterwards, not just for pain relief, but for his health in general; vitamins, supplements, even actual candy to make him feel better. 

When he raised a brow at the caramel drops in his palm Crane embarrassedly huffed that they made him feel better. The color reminded him of Crane's hair, and the sugary taste on his tongue is how he imagined the younger man to taste like, so he savored it and let his midnight dreams escalate. When Crane seemed to regret his decision, clawing at his own hands, Bane rumbled his thank you with a small smile. 

He was truly thankful for Crane's gifts. His loyal little crow bringing him treats for letting him experiment on him, not that they ever really affected him, besides the pain treatments.

He even brought him something Bane thought he long lost.

"Mr. Bane, you've got yourself a visitor!" Crane exclaimed as he entered the room.

"You're always a welcome company, Dr. Crane," Bane huffed as he got up from his creaky old bed and walked towards the bars but paused at the doctor's state.

Crane's oily hair was stuck together even more so than usual, his clothes askew and dirty, shirt buttons and tie missing beneath his overly large jacket, and his lips bruised a cherry red. He also had a cloying scent that Bane smelt on him before and by now figured the source but would rather not comment on it. His attention shifted to Crane's hands coming to his vision as he moved them forward from behind his back.

"Ta-dah!"

Bane blinked a couple of times. It couldn't be.

"Osito?" Bane gave a disbelieving whisper at the sight of the plush teddy bear in Crane's hands. His first and only toy while growing up in prison. The only thing he could call his. He only told Crane once briefly about the bear that he got from his mother. He didn't expect him to remember it.

"You recognize him! That's wonderful!" Crane was giddy with joy as he squeezed the bear in through the bars, "I had to give the little survivor a bit of a wash and a surgery, the poor thing was in scraps when I got him out from your previous prison, but I tried to recreate the original fabric. You might think this is childish and demeaning, but I've done plenty of research regarding the positive effects of a childhood token on the mind, and I could swear on my diploma that this is, in all forms, a healing treatment for a grown adult's brain at harder times. Something to hold onto and squeeze close. Something to cherish. So. Do you like it?"

Bane looked up at him as he palmed at the soft toy. He didn't think he ever felt more warmth in his chest than now, with Crane's hopeful face smiling at him through the bars. He didn't care if this was a part of his experiment; he brought him real joy for the first time in his life.

"Yes. Thank you, Crane. You have a kind heart."

The smaller man flushed and tried to bite back his happiness, but his smile kept slipping back on as he tried to find an excuse, "Not at all, I-, I'm not a kind person. This isn't-, I don't-, I just do what I have to do. For my, um, my experiment. Make you find something to cherish."

Bane gave a small smirk, looking the smaller man up and down, "You're certainly on track," he looked back down at the toy, thumbing at the seams Crane sew. What a fascinating little evil genius he got.

That night, he pressed the soft toy to his face, breathing in what was left of Crane's scent, rubbing at the soft material, and trying to imagine what the boy's hair might feel like; silky, smooth, tickling his fingertips. He popped a caramel in his mouth, imagining tasting Crane's skin, his lush mouth, between his legs. He wondered what the boy would look like, drunk on pleasure, shaking with want, begging for him, and he spilled in his hand with a groan when fantasizing about giving it to him. 

He knew already that the young doctor had an appetite for certain treatments from men. His bruises and scent let him knew that much. Sometimes he wondered just how many men had a chance to fulfill the boy's cravings and how many of them he actually loved. He huffed while wiping himself down, disappointedly thinking how he would never get such a chance himself. Even if he did, he would only hurt the poor thing; none of his previous partners managed to take him even halfway, all of them ripping and screeching in pain, crying for mercy. No matter. It's foolish to even fantasize about something so impossible. 

Things were fine the way they were until a few days later, when Crane limped into the room with a bright smile on his abused lips, holding some documents proudly for Bane to inspect. He didn't know why it irritated him so much, the knowledge that Crane let himself be taken by other men. Men that most likely weren't deserving of his graces. Men that Bane wanted to murder in the most gruesome way.

"Mr. Bane, I finally did it! I'll get you transferred to Arkham Asylum as of today; your prison sentence got dismissed permanently. From now on, you're a free man!" Crane giggled excitedly, almost jumping in joy.

Did Crane show this happy, hopeful side of his to other men? 

Did he smile this warmly at other inmates that he got out?

Did he give them a more special treatment?

Did he coyly jump from lap to lap while Bane was only left with fantasies to sate his desires?

Did he love someone else?

Bane focused on the white stains left on Crane's shirt for a long moment before speaking, "How could I call myself a free man, Dr. Crane, if I'm about to be locked up somewhere else? Prison cell, psychic ward, hardly different. A cage is a cage, no matter what color you paint the bars."

The color drained slowly from the doctor's face, his smile fading away as his eyes filled with uncertainty and sorrow, "I thought-," his throat was rough from usage, so he tried to clear it to mask how his voice broke, "I thought you would appreciate this opportunity. That you would be glad to leave this place."

"What could Arkham offer me that would make me glad?" He didn't know exactly why he chose to push these buttons on Crane, but the way those big blue eyes filled up with tears and that porcelain skin blushed, he found himself craving to see more.

Crane tried to pick himself up, pull himself together, but his hands were clawing at each other in frustration. Bane wanted to grab those wrists to make him stop hurting himself.

"Significantly larger independence, care, job, and hobby opportunities, one of the most extensive libraries in the city, fast rehabilitation programs, much lower security; honestly, we have breakouts every other week, and at this point, it's almost a tradition." Crane laughed humorlessly.

Bane saw honest hurt on that beautiful face, and he wanted to punch himself for causing it, but he quickly reminded himself that Crane didn't love him. He was just looking for another lab rat.

Crane paused for a minute, gnawing at his lips before looking back up with a hopeful glint in his eye, "... and me."

Bane watched the boy for a long minute more silently, trying to maintain the ice on his heart and force himself to not give in to the temptation. He probably said this line to every inmate that he got out. Bane wasn't anything special to him. He couldn't be.

"Low security, you say?" He almost cracked his own skull against the wall with how the good doctor sniffled like a kicked puppy as he nodded. He was enjoying Crane's tears almost as much as he dreaded them, "Then you got yourself a new patient, Dr. Crane."

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen."

The deep and unfamiliar voice coming from the other end of the room startled them both. However, Crane seemed more disturbed by it, pressing himself against the bars as if he tried to shield Bane, which he found adorable but also quite concerning.

The voice belonged to a handsome and tall gentleman in a black suit. He was dark and elegant, the overly rich snobby kind that was born with a silver spoon in their mouth, played polo with princes, ate the hearts of starving children for dessert, and acted like they owned everything, including his little doctor. 

Bane found his irritation rising drastically. These were his private sessions with the younger man; no one else should interfere.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne, what a surprise," Crane tried to force on one of his smug smiles, but it was hard when only moments prior he was close to sobbing, "but I'm afraid you can no longer prevent this procedure. The jury and the judge already signed. And if I recall correctly, you gave your permission as well to me."

Wayne slowly sauntered closer, with a mock scolding look on his face as if he had some kind of an authority over the young doctor. Bane wanted to snap his neck like a cracker with his bare hands.

"I gave you my permission to visit and observe him, not to set him free," he stood far too close to Crane to be called polite, talking intimately low so that the guard at the other end of the room wouldn't hear. "I've already treated you far too generously and risked my reputation for your psychotic experiments. I'll not let you put another thug on the street of the city."

Crane smiled knowingly, indecently licking his lips as he traced a delicate hand over the expensive suit of the taller man, "Oh, Bruce, we both know how much you enjoyed the risk between my thighs. I've given you what you wanted and more." Crane's voice turned from seductive to mild panic, "So, please. Let me have him. You know how hard I've worked to earn this."

Wayne gave a condescending smirk as he peeled off Crane's hand with a cruel grip on the boy's fragile wrist, "Yes, I know. I've heard how you've whored yourself out to every man with the power to keep you from visiting your special pet gorilla." Wayne spared only a brief belittling glance at Bane, who towered over the two of them. "Heard how you had to do extra rounds to bring him candy and toys. Very sweet to see the heartless Dr. Crane act like a hooker just to mother hen a seven feet tall wall of muscle. Very touching."

Crane had his head bowed in shame, trying to curl in on himself to become even smaller and avoid the ruthless words. He purposefully didn't show his face to Bane behind him, just clutching at the bars that he was leaning against and trying to hold back his trembling. He looked utterly broken, not the cocky and coy little doctor Bane was used to by now.

The men that he serviced, the ones that he smelt on him; they were all to help Bane. Crane did it all for him. And Bane had the nerve to get angry at him for it.

Bane found himself going almost blind with fury. He didn't care who this Wayne person was; he wanted to rip him to shreds right now. Break his body like he broke Crane's spirit. 

Crane sniffled as he reached for Wayne's belt with shaking hands and desperately babbled, "P-please, Bruce, I-, I'll do anything. You know that. If I-, what if I let you fuck my mouth right now, hm? I know you like that. You like it when I can't talk, don't you? I'll let you use me every day from now on, just let me-,"

Wayne sighed impatiently as he batted away Crane's hands, "My decision is final, Crane. Maybe you should've washed yourself before making a proposition. You reek from the judge and the jury," Crane looked even more humiliated and let out a whimper as Wayne grabbed him by the jaw, "You're too spoiled for me now. For anyone, really. I don't see the point in playing with you anymore, not even with a face like that."

Bane was imagining digging his thumbs into Wayne's eyesockets until his brain was decorating the floor.

Crane looked up at Wayne in defiance, voice broken and hurt, "Because you've got Selina now?" he gave a humorless chuckle, "If you think she would want to be your plaything, you've got another thing coming."

"Oh, she won't be anything like that, of course. No, she's got much more to her than you, Crane. She's nowhere near as disposable or despicable as you. She'll be my wife." Crane froze against the bars at that, letting Wayne lean down to breathe against his ear, "She'll get a loving husband that cherishes her above all else while you rot on your knees for men that only see you as what you are; an unlovable, desperate, cheap, crazy little whore." Wayne murmured as he pressed a small condescending kiss to the soft pale throat.

Bane only realized that the deafening creaking came from how his hands bent the metal bars of his cell out of shape once Wayne quickly stepped back, and Crane turned with tear-stained cheeks, trying to hold him back with a cry.

"No, Bane, don't! Please!" Crane never sounded more in pain before. Bane saw red and further bent the bars apart, making way for himself. Until now, he was unaware that he was even capable of that. "He's just doing this to prevent you from leaving! If you hurt him now, you'll never be let free! It's not worth it!" 

"I'll have to disagree with you on that, Dr. Crane," Bane growled as he started tearing the bars out of their sockets and throwing them to loudly clatter on the ground to get to Wayne's throat faster. "You see, to me, you are worth much more than that." Crane paused at that, his glistening eyes widening, and gasped as Bane ripped out the last of the bars with a sudden jerk. "And I will gladly spend eternity here if it means I can destroy the man that would disrespect the one I cherish in such a way."

"Come on then, big guy," Wayne only smirked as the guard behind him immediately started shouting for back up desperately.

Let them come; he'll happily break a few more skulls. 

He took slow, heavy steps forward, looming tall, showing off their size difference. Wayne may have been well-built in a sporty way, but Bane probably weighed at least twice as much; the venom coursing through his veins broke the boundaries of his strength. Wayne may have looked cocky now, but he had no clue about Bane's training or intellect or sheer power. The guards will have to scrape his remaining bits off the ground with a teaspoon. 

"Don't, please!" Crane stepped in front of him, taking Bane's clenched fist gently in his own hands, which brought the larger man's attention back down to the little doctor. "Please, Bane, don't hurt him! For me."

Bane almost got completely distracted by the feeling. Their first time touching one another. He stared at the much smaller hands caressing his own, then Crane brought it close to his face and pressed a wet little kiss to his knuckles, gently coercing his palm open. The touch alone seemed to sweep away all his murderous rage; it was truly fascinating what an effect the boy had on him.

Bane cradled the doctor's cheek in his hand, marveling at how soft and small it was in his hold, how fragile. How warm. Crane leaned against the touch, looking up with pure adoration in those crystal blue eyes which Bane reciprocated with ease, wiping at the tear tracks on Crane's cheekbone with his thumb. He wanted to pause that moment in time and stay like that forever. Holding his pretty little crow.

Of course, Wayne had to ruin it. 

"Well, aren't you a cute couple?" Wayne's smug voice was like nails scraping down the chalkboard, interrupting their moment like that. "Frankenstein and his monster. You always did like them big and brutal, didn't you, Crane? The bigger, the better. Throwing yourself amid gangs on purpose to be treated like a cheap sexdoll. I wonder if you could ever get off without bleeding?"

Crane's gaze fell to the floor again in shame, shying away from Bane's attention and clawing at his hands again in anxiety. Bane slid his hand to his nape and ran his fingers through his hair in a comforting manner, trying to ground both of them. It felt so silky and soft, but Bane couldn't savor it properly because that irritating bastard just kept talking.

"I remember when I first took you in your office, you wanted to get violated so much. Begging for me to go harder, hit you, choke you, and call you what you really are. That's why maybe now you act your beloved role as the bashful maiden, but I know that your panties must be tight and soaked, and you just want me to keep going." 

Crane was trembling and shaking his head in Bane's hold, his lips bitten raw and bloody. He was stuttering quiet little whispers of denial, and Bane wondered if Crane was trying to reassure him.

"But I'm unfairly hard on you now, no? After all, it's not your fault that you became such a deranged little slut. No, you were trained just right by your drunkard father-," but before Wayne could even finish that word, Crane became wide-eyed and turned towards him with a guttural scream, trying to attack Wayne with nothing but his hands.

Bane should've caught him, but he was too startled by seeing Crane become so overtaken by desperation and rage that his pretty features would turn so grotesque so quickly.

Wayne caught his wrists with ease in one hand while backhanding him with the other, snapping the smaller man's face to the side, making the glasses fly off his face and clutter to the ground, stopping his screams effectively.

Wayne took hold of Crane's throat, making the smaller man look up at him as he tutted condescendingly, "Now that wasn't a smart move, was it? But then again, I always enjoyed how dumb you can be for an intelligent person. You should've stuck with the dumb part and stayed a rent boy. You're much better at it."

Bane was almost completely paralyzed by anger. Important emphasis on "almost," because he was taking deliberate steps towards Wayne who upon noticing this, threw Crane to the side like a ragdoll and squared up.

He has never in his life felt this much hate and fury. Not for the prison guards, nor the warden, nor any other inmates, nor for the doctors that tortured him his whole life, not for anything or anyone. He felt like he was bursting at the seams with red hot rage. 

He loved Crane; he would do anything for him and would never go against what he wanted.

But one can only take so much pain seeing the ones they cherish the most be hurt so much.

He was a strong man, he could endure so much, but this is where he draws the line.

He hoped Crane would be able to forgive him.

But no god can save Bruce Wayne now.

Bane cracked his knuckles, "I wonder which will break first. Your body, or your spirit."

Bane roared as he swung his first blow at Wayne, who thought he could outmaneuver him using his slighter build and speed, but Bane was expecting that, and as Wayne tried to dodge to the side, his elbow swung right with him, landing with a satisfying thud in his chest, sending him stumbling back with a pained gasp.

Wayne landed hits that might have hurt a regular man, but Bane was numb to it, possessed by territorial rage as he hammered blow after blow in Wayne's organs, growling manically. Every crunch, every splatter of blood, every thud of the body he was breaking down brought him a newfound thirst to hurt this man more. 

He wanted to break this insignificant, rude bastard who dared to hurt his beloved little crow. 

When Wayne tried to weakly land a few more hits, blindly swinging left and right, Bane had enough of his puny attempts, so he dislocated his shoulders and broke his arms. His yells overpowered Crane's cries. When the weaker man could barely stand, Bane gave him an easy outlet by kicking out his right kneecap. Wayne immediately fell to the ground screaming in agony, which only became more desperate as Bane stomped on the other, breaking both of his legs. What a lovely symphony.

Time to end his life, he thought as he roughly pulled the man up from the ground.

"Freeze, don't move!" the wimpy officers were shouting by the door, pointing their guns at him, but Bane didn't care; no, he will wrench this miserable man's neck once and for all. "Inmate! Put down Mr. Wayne, or we'll open fire!"

"Please, don't! Don't shoot! Stop! Don't kill him, please no!" Crane yelled desperately, crying and screaming at the officers instead of Bane. 

Bane paused as he raised Wayne above his head. He wanted one last look at his pretty little crow. 

"Dr. Crane," he tried to make his voice as soft and calming as possible. He didn't want his little crow to cry anymore. He wanted him to know that everything will be alright, but all he could say was, "Te amo, mi cuervito."

Crane looked back at him with wide eyes, but Bane couldn't hear his cries anymore. He was only seeing how even when twisted with such gruesome emotions, his little doctor was still the most beautiful person in the whole world.

He heard the countdown of the guards and felt relief wash over him as one of them held back Crane from trying to shield him with his body. Crane will be alright.

He roared one more time as he slammed down Wayne onto his upward kicking knee, breaking his spine in half with a satisfying wet crunch before all he could hear was the row of shots fired at him from the guards. He could almost not feel the pain caused by the bullets riddling his body and sending him tumbling down to the ground as darkness slowly overtook him, with Crane's cries ringing in his head until he completely lost consciousness.

It was the feeling of something tickling his fingertips that woke him drowsily. Bane furrowed his brows and groaned at the slow onset of dull pain coming from every direction of his frame as his body gradually awakened. It was especially hard to breathe, his chest feeling tight, and he wanted to reach up to find the thing itching at his nose, but he felt a pleasant light and warm weight holding his wrist down slightly as he tried to move it.

Bane blinked a couple of times to get his sight adjusted to the dark medical room before he attempted to sit up from the bed he was lying on. It was an even harder feat than he thought; his body felt like lead, not yet used to motion again. He sighed and slumped back, looking to the side to check what was weighing down his right hand anyway.

His heart almost burst at the sight of Crane sitting by his bedside, slumped over and resting his head on Bane's hand, clutching at his arm and Osito tucked by him. So it was Crane's hair that tickled him, huh.

The doctor looked adorable in his sleeping form, mouth slightly open and long lashes fanned over his pretty face, his glasses resting atop his head, but he was clearly tired. His eyes had dark circles beneath them, his cheekbones slightly more protruding with malnutrition, and his skin was pale and clammy. He must have been working hard on keeping Bane alive.

Looking around himself, Bane saw various medical equipment and tubes were going in and out of his veins with blood-soaked rags thrown around the desk nearby. He had quite a few stitches and bandages decorating his body, and a mask has been fastened to the lower part of his face. It connected to some kind of a chemical pouch on the side. He must have had tubes down his throat a while ago because it ached when he tried to swallow; maybe he got shot in the neck as well, huh.

Crane did an excellent job. He knew that the little doctor was the one that patched him up from his white lab coat and arms caked in dry blood and grime, used elastic gloves thrown around him as he held tightly onto Bane and softly mumbled in his sleep. Bane reached over with his other hand, slightly wincing as the tubes tugged on his skin to caress Crane's sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes. He could watch for eternity his pretty little crow.

But the itching at his nose couldn't stop bothering him, so he reached up to remove the mask, just to scratch at it a little, which was, well, not the right decision.

Barely after a second of tasting fresh air instead of whatever gas he has been inhaling, the pain started to flood his system tenfold, and he groaned in agony, rousing his little doctor. Crane jumped almost instinctively, fastening the mask back on with a hiss carefully as his panicked gaze rowed over Bane's body.

"It's alright, everything will be fine, just breathe a bit deeper," Crane chanted worriedly, to himself or Bane he didn't know, "I know it hurts, but please."

Bane focused on trying to breathe evenly; his heavy-lidded eyes on Crane's helped him to block out the pain before it all returned to the dull ache. Crane gave a sad smile as he caressed a hand over his face. Bane wanted to do the same, and Crane caught his upward reaching hand to nuzzle into it and press kisses onto his palm as he did before. Bane watched in utter adoration.

"What happened?" his voice sounded even rougher with the mask on, and it hurt to speak now, but he felt like he stayed silent for long enough. "Are you alright, doctor?"

Crane gave a laugh that sounded more like a sob as tears filled his eyes but a wide smile as well, so Bane tried not to worry, "You're half dead, and you ask me if I am alright? Seriously, Mr. Bane." Crane wiped at his eyes, trying to become less emotional, but he couldn't uncurl the edge of his lips. 

"I could be completely dead and still worry for you," Bane enjoyed seeing some color return to the smaller man's cheeks. "You look unwell."

"Well, I'm in a much better condition than you are, that's for sure," Crane chuckled, "but you're already on a steady road of recovery. You've been out for a week. A normal man would have died in your place, you know; you've got shot in the neck, jaw, lungs, and several vital organs. Not to mention the bullets I pulled out of your muscles and bones. It must be agonizing, so the mask is pumping you full with medication to suppress it, so bear with it for now, but you're extraordinary enough to be amongst the living already."

Bane hummed in understanding before grumbling, "Is your ex-boyfriend similarly extraordinary, or did he die in agony as I hoped for?"

Crane's smile subsided, but his tone wasn't as hurt as he expected, "He was never my boyfriend. And, he's in a much worse shape than you, but he is still alive. It will probably take him a decade to be able to stand again, but he is the richest man in the world; he's got the money to make it out alive. But you did break him into a million pieces, so you should be proud; before this, he was a very public figure, a real playboy, now he won't be marrying any supermodels for a long time. I heard Selina took the family jewels and left for Florence with half his fortune."

Crane's giggle made Bane's heart flutter, and he wanted to laugh with him, but he knew this wasn't possibly the end of it.

"So am I staying in prison, or will they try to execute me? Hanging hasn't worked before, I'm afraid, and I have a bad history with bullets." 

"Actually," Crane laughed and bit his bottom lip mischievously, not at all the reaction Bane expected. "You know how that prison was said to be one of the most secure ones in the country? Well, who would have thought that on the same day as you were to be put free, someone broke the main control panel on the cells, and all the prisoners began rioting and murdering guards as well as seriously wounding the visiting billionaire, Mr. Wayne. And no one knows who it may have been that hurt him so badly, as the guards around him were all pronounced dead and someone jammed a pen in Mr. Wayne's vocal cords so he cannot say either."

"Wonder who could have done that?" Bane watched as Crane's glee spread like a wild, beautiful flower, and it must have been infectious because he felt his own grin forming. His sweet little psycho. "Was it a nice pen?"

"I'll live without it." Crane shrugged before his voice turned more excited, "So let me give you a warm welcome to Arkham Asylum, Mr. Bane!" 

He adorably shook his hand with both of his, but Bane just wanted to kiss his smiling lush mouth until he had no air left to breathe, "Thank you, Dr. Crane. I'm looking forward to being in your care."

"Very good! However, I'll have to advise you against any breakout plans for a few months. Cannot risk you at your current condition."

"Rest assured, doctor, I'm not planning to leave just yet. I've got you here, after all."

Crane's eyes were like the brightest stars at his confession. He didn't plan to leave his side in this life.

Crane was there to take care of him at almost all hours of the day, even setting up his office desk by Bane's bedside, giving all of his patients over to other doctors, and focusing more on managing the institution and caring for him properly. He designed prototype after prototype for a mask that Bane could wear without wires hanging out of him every step of the way and managed to create one Bane could move around in. And he took care of his every need. Well. Not all of them just yet.

Bane considered his lack of lust and libido as a side effect of the drugs he got given as a child. He didn't crave a partner as regularly as other men that he's met, thinking they were inferior to him for not being able to refrain from forcing themselves on the weaker and prettier.

That is not to say that he didn't feel a pull when he saw a pretty face, but it was easy to squash down and focus on more important things. The only reason as to why he took a few people to bed was sheer curiosity. He was told by other inmates that sex can relieve the mind and get rid of pent-up frustration. But each time he tried, he failed to achieve that type of mind-numbing pleasure with another person. So it wasn't a significant sacrifice to not bother with it again and just occasionally took himself in hand if he wanted a few moments of a somewhat clear mind. He only needed to do that maybe every other month, but with the appearance of Crane in his life, he found himself doing it more and more, each time spilling to the thought of the pretty doctor. Maybe that was part of why he felt more uplifted and relaxed since meeting the boy.

But now. Now Bane was tenser than he has been in a very long time.

Because it has been a good few weeks since he has awakened and already started moving around, exercising to build his mobility back up, and he thought he could distract himself with it. But it all seemed to only fuel the fire in his belly that started to lick at his spine and was the most intense when Crane was around. Seeing that gorgeous face, that delicate neck, his hair shining like caramel in the sunlight, his delicious scent. And Crane slept in the same room as him. He saw his long skinny legs shimmy out of his trousers and his shirt slip off to reveal pale and bony shoulders when getting ready for bed. Bane saw the dreamy little looks the smaller man sent him as Crane tiptoed around indecently with his bare thighs showing to wash up in the bathroom. The way Crane fucking bent over his desk to reach something as if he was showcasing an offering. It was driving him insane. Good thing he was already in an asylum.

Bane was pent up. And the young doctor wasn't making it any easier for him. He kissed his palm, nuzzled close, and looked up at him so beautifully without hesitation when Bane reached out for him.

Bane has already confessed on the day of his fight with Wayne that he cherished the doctor above all else and loved him, although he said that in his mother tongue, hoping Crane wouldn't understand. They've had honest moments where they gazed at each other with utter love and devotion, but Bane was afraid that he's been only imagining the reciprocation of his own feelings, and the smaller man regarded him as just a friend. So he didn't make a move to further develop their relationship as he desperately wanted to. 

But nevermind, he could deal with his little frustration once Crane leaves him for twenty minutes while he's conscious. But that time never seemed to come, Crane fussing over him one half of the day and the other spent with running the asylum from the desk in Bane's room, and Bane felt his patience running thin. He loved being around Crane; he was the sunshine of his existence. He just needed to take care of this first.

Crane usually slept on a used leather couch next to his desk, so Bane planned on waiting till the doctor fell asleep to quietly get rid of his frustration under the thin sheets. He could fall heavily asleep within seconds easily, so he never stayed up after bidding goodnight to the boy before; therefore, he had no preparation for what came next.

He watched Crane's slim form slip beneath the thick ratty blanket on the couch, yawning like a kitten and mumbling good night, and waited for his breathing to finally even out, not daring to move for half an hour at least. But he didn't have to wait that long to hear the little doctor slither out of his makeshift bed. Bane almost sighed in frustration that Crane was still awake and active but begrudgingly stayed still, feigning sleep as he heard the boy's light footsteps sneak closer and closer to his bed. 

Bane almost opened his eyes and asked Crane what's wrong but then felt the smaller man's thin body crawl atop his bed quietly. Maybe he wanted to snuggle? There have been times when he woke up in the morning to find Crane tucked against his side or on top of him, clinging to him as if he was an oversized teddy bear, sleeping soundly. Bane tried not to let that give him any ideas, Crane was, after all, constantly cold, and his own body was like a furnace, generating more heat at all times. Bane clenched his jaw, thinking that this way, there won't be a chance for him to address his problem without notice.

But then he felt Crane lift the cover and climb under it carefully, straddling his legs and tugging at his waistband. Bane lifted his head to see the Crane-sized lump under the covers wiggle around but didn't utter a word. What the hell was his little doctor doing?

The answer to that came in the form of the boy's cold hands gingerly taking out his limp cock, and the next second, his heart stopped as he felt a warm and wet mouth press kisses onto it. Bane almost jumped in shock but managed to control his urges at the last moment, his breath hitching as he felt the kisses turn to kittenish licks.

Okay, so maybe Crane didn't only regard him as a friend, but he still didn't dare to act on that instinct just yet; nevertheless, there was a chance of him grinding his teeth to ashes as he felt that soft hot mouth close around the tip of his dick and suck. And it felt like such intense pleasure he thought his mind was going to break.

Bane could feel his cock fattening up to full hardness in Crane's obscenely talented little mouth lightning-fast. Even more so when he felt himself slip deeper and deeper within the tight wet heat, and it was almost incomprehensible how easily the boy was taking him down his throat now. The gentle suction and slurping and that eager tongue lapping at the underside had Bane clenching at the sheets to restrain himself from grabbing Crane by the nape and pushing him a little further. He promised himself he wouldn't; he remembered how it made his previous partners panic, but he desperately craved to run his fingers through that soft hair. 

It's been so long since he had the luxury to have a pretty head bobbing between his legs, and he unconsciously snapped his hips up into the incredible feeling when the boy took him so far down, making Crane choke on his cock. His concern got the better of him, and he immediately lifted the cover to check on the little doctor drooling on his dick.

Crane made the most indecent and fantastic picture. His face flushed and glowing with the humidity under the covers, his lips a lush cherry red ring enveloping Bane's thick member, and his big doe eyes filled with sparkling tears and wide in surprise at being caught. His dick twitched against the boy's velvet tongue.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Bane could hit himself with how dumbstruck he sounded, his rumbling voice even deeper amidst his lust. Crane remained frozen in fear with his mouth warm around his cock for another minute, so he added politely, "Didn't mean to hurt you."

Crane dragged himself off his member with a string of thick saliva connecting his glistening lips to the tip to stutter in panic, "No, I-, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-, and, no, you didn't hurt me, I was just surprised, it's a reflex after all, but I'm-, I'm so sorry, I was just, uh, um..."

Poor boy embarrassedly scrambled around, but Bane didn't want him to stop in the slightest, so he offered to give him an excuse, "I'm assuming this is part of your experiment, Dr. Crane."

Crane perked up at that, eagerly nodding along, "Yes, yes indeed, it is, a, uh, much needed, heavily important part."

Bane smirked and mused in a low tone as he combed back the hair that has fallen into the doctor's eyes with his fingers, "Then don't let me keep you from your important work, Dr. Crane. I would hate to inconvenience you in any way."

Crane embarrassedly nuzzled against his hand before hesitantly licking around the head, keeping eye-contact the whole time. His pretty pink tongue lapped at his cock as if it was something delicious and gave a cute little sound as he took a mouthful again.

Bane kept the covers off of Crane's head, letting the cold air graze his flushed skin, and now he had no excuses not to touch. He caressed over Crane's jaw and cheekbones, carding his fingers through his hair, his short nails slightly scratching. Crane's moans were muffled by the throbbing cock in his mouth that he sank lower and lower with each drag of his head, and Bane had to chuckle at how dazed and cock-drunk Crane seemed from just sucking him off.

"So beautiful," Bane found himself groaning, and Crane's lashes fluttered from the praise, so he kept going, "Gorgeous little angel. You've always been pretty, but now you're breath-taking. My darling boy, so good for me. Taking it better than anyone else."

Crane's pupils were blown wide as he blinked slowly up at him and took him even further than before, his fluttering throat massaging more than half of his cock. Bane registered how Crane's hips were grinding against the sheets below him with one hand reaching over his back to hastily finger himself, drawing lewd squelching sounds from his hole. Bane wanted to replace those fingers with his tongue. 

"Incredible, perfect little thing," Bane took the liberty of slightly tugging on Crane's hair after the boy moaned in favor of the treatment, "Such a talented whore."

The word just slipped from his mouth along the praises; he wouldn't have noticed it if not for how Crane brokenly whimpered and his hips stuttered against the bed as he came and crumbled apart. Bane pet him through it, cooing his compliments softly and letting the boy nuzzle against his hand again for comfort as his orgasm washed over him. So beautiful.

Bane thought he would slip off his cock now, but Crane just stared up at him through half-lidded eyes, panting and resting a bit before suddenly sinking down much further than before as if he tried to take him all the way or kill himself.

Bane yanked him off by the hair firmly before the doctor could injure himself, and through dragging him back, did Bane see just how much that dainty little thing could take down his throat through the drool glistening over his member. His eyes widened at the impressive talent. He took more than two-thirds of his twelve-inch cock. A new record.

"I can take more, I can take it all, I can, let me-," Crane whined like a needy child at being denied, his voice strained from his well-fucked throat, "Please, I want to swallow your come."

Bane's traitorous cock twitched in interest, but Bane huffed, "You're going to hurt yourself attempting that, trust me, doctor. Wouldn't want to have you choke to death on my cock, now would we?"

"Would that be so bad?" Crane was still hazy, licking at his grinning lips and staring hungrily at Bane's erection. "That is a kind of death I would welcome, I think. If it means I can have you spill your seed down my belly."

This insatiable little fiend had too big a mouth on him. Bane wanted to stuff it again just to teach him a lesson.

Crane tried to forcefully move closer, mewling at the pain from Bane steadily holding him in place by his hair and pouted as his hands came forward to stroke at the thick cock so close yet so far from his mouth.

"Please, I need it, I-, I need to taste test your ejaculation. It's a vital part of the experiment!"

"Is it now?" Bane raised an unimpressed brow but sighed at his own lack of self-control as he allowed the boy to take him in his mouth again. He petted at the curling caramel locks, "If you take more than you can handle, I'll spear you down on my cock and let you die on it, doctor."

Crane moaned a sound around him that sounded suspiciously close to "please," but Bane just shook his head and let the twisted little thing have his fun. He kept him in check, however, not letting him take too much, keeping hold of his silky locks and guiding him gently to the brink of his climax. Crane seemed to enjoy being used in such a way, moaning and watching Bane's reactions with sleepy interest and an open throat.

Crane gave a happy little mewl as Bane pressed him down faster and lower than before, keeping him down for a few long seconds, feeling that tight passage convulse around his cock before he drew him back with a sigh until the little mouth had no choice but release him completely. 

"Hey-," Crane gave another broken whine, ready to be a spoiled little brat again, but Bane just kept him in place with his fingers knotted in his hair while with his other hand, he started pumping himself furiously. "This isn't fair! I want to-,"

"Quiet down and open your mouth, Crane. I'll give you what you need," Bane grunted in warning as he tipped himself over the edge and spurted over the doctor's pretty face.

Crane struggled to catch it all after the initial surprise, closing his mouth over the head and trying to swallow what he could. Some of the thick white liquid that landed on his face weighed down his lashes and dripped down his jaw, and Bane thought it suited him quite well.

After Bane milked the last of it in Crane's eager mouth, letting him take his time to swallow, he pulled him off again, the little doctor gasping and licking at the edges of his lips, where a bit of his come escaped.

"Satisfied, doctor?" Bane mused, wiping at the boy's face with the sheets.

"You came so much, incredible. I feel so full," Crane panted dreamily before answering more professionally, "I'll have to conduct further research into the matter, but for now, I am yes, thank you for cooperating, Mr. Bane."

"My pleasure, Dr. Crane." 

"Would you be willing to participate in a similar experiment but this time maybe injecting your sizable cock in me anally?" before Bane could answer, he hastily added, "I've been practicing! I have toys that I've used, so don't worry about tearing me up; I've been stretching myself for you!"

"So that is what your night endeavors were for, hm? Very thorough research, Dr. Crane, but I would say your body has taken enough strain for the night. However, if you would like me to fuck you in the morning, I would be more than willing to satisfy your request."

Crane giggled against Bane's tummy and rubbed his face against his softening member affectionately, "I've been dreaming of this since I first saw you, Mr. Bane. You are even better than I've hoped for; you're the nicest man I've ever been with, you know? Please don't ever leave."

"I do not plan to. Not having you with me is the one thing I fear, you see." Bane mused before letting the smaller man jump into his arms to snuggle themselves to sleep.

After that incident, Bane couldn't deny that he and his little crow were definitely more than just doctor and patient or friends. 

They had fantastic sex, Crane quickly proving that he wasn't lying when he said that he could take him down to the root on both ends and how he loved it and brought Bane pleasure like never before. Bane would lay in bed afterwards with his little crow tucked by his side, utterly fucked out and panting on his chest, and Bane would marvel at his beauty and his own luck of finding someone so perfect. He finally understood what the other men meant by how sex can bring peace to the mind; he's never felt this happy and relaxed before. He felt complete. And with every smile that Crane flashed at him, that feeling only grew.

He helped Crane with his research, but most of them were for his recovery or other patients; Crane never used the gas on him again since his time in prison. Bane didn't question why that was.

He did have a different question, however, almost a year later.

"Cuervito?" Bane asked Crane nonchalantly after washing away their dirty plates left over from their dinner. "What am I to you?

One of his proudest achievements was having Crane eat real and regular meals that he cooked and getting a bit of meat on the smaller man's protruding bones. Before he started cooking, Crane shamefully admitted he hadn't had a homecooked meal since he left England when he was seventeen. So Crane spent five whole years living off on candy, maybe a bagel, and some coffee every day, that is, when he remembered to eat.

"Hm?" Crane looked up at him in surprise with his mouth full of ice cream. Bane was by now used to the amount of sugar the slight doctor consumed. 

"What do you say I am to you to your colleagues? They see me accompanying you every day and helping you with patients," meaning he will protect Crane and slam them down to the ground if they try to attack him. "How do you define our relationship to them?"

Crane nervously played with the spoon in his mouth and tucked his fingers in the sleeves of the oversized sweater he originally got for Bane for Christmas. It fell down his shoulder and reached past his knees. Bane got him a new pen for the one he stabbed in Wayne's throat.

"Um, they think you're my bodyguard," True, Bane hasn't let any thug or mafia member touch a hair on Crane since he brought him to Arkham. Crane fidgeted with his sleeves and looked away, "but I call you my boyfriend."

Bane paused from putting away the plates and turned towards him. Crane looked utterly adorable sitting atop the kitchen counter. Bane chose to redecorate Crane's whole apartment and clean it up when he moved in and assembled that counter. Then in celebration fucked Crane so hard on it that the marks the doctor's nails left on the wood are still visible. He wanted to repeat that event now.

"Is that okay?" Crane peered up at him shyly.

Bane pretended to think about it for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side and scratching at his mask before he casually said, "No, I would not like to think of myself that way." He could see Crane freezing in shock and fear, so he quickly cleared his throat and got down on a knee in front of him, taking the little velvet box out from his apron that he has been hiding for the past few months, "Would you do me the honor, to consider calling me your husband instead?"

Crane's jaw dropped at the sight of the ring offered and quickly put his hands over his gaping mouth, his eyes moving back and forth between Bane's and the engagement offering. The golden ring with a large black diamond on top came to Bane's possession after beating up a few gang leaders that bad-mouthed his beloved. They even adjusted the size for him to what Bane remembered Crane's finger was like from holding his hands a lot.

"Of course, if you do not want to-," Bane started, but Crane was jumping down the counter and into his arms with shrieks of yes that could have been heard blocks away. Luckily the neighbors were used to that by now.

Bane considered himself the luckiest man alive for calling himself the husband of Jonathan Crane, renowned psychologist, and genius, not to mention the prettiest person alive and the best fuck. And he reminded Crane of that every day. Especially on their anniversaries.

Which was now to be spent in Birmingham with Crane's family.

Neither of them could have foreseen one of Crane's twins popping up, bruised and battered and in need of help, and Bane honestly didn't mind it. It was nice to finally meet his little crow's family for the first time, and he enjoyed some of their company. His twins and Ada were delightful, but Arthur could get a bit tiring with trying to box him to fight for his little brother's honor, and John was asking him about how much Bane can bench every day. And he promised not to hurt his brothers-in-law for the duration of their stay. 

The excessive company of other people was tiring in the long term for both of them, and it would have been nicer to have Crane all to himself for their anniversary, but he didn't seem to have a choice in the matter now. 

Bane sighed as he watched Crane excitedly gather everything on his shopping list at the pharmacy. He was a delightful little creature, no matter how scared the pharmacists looked at Crane's little giggles as he could finally get his hands on a couple of things he was banned from buying in the states. 

Bane looked out the foggy window, annoyed by the strangers in the shop gawking at him, and spotted an optics shop. He could get new glasses for his little crow; the current ones kept slipping down his nose, and one of the handles was glued together for the damage it suffered once it fell off his face at an ill-placed fuck.

"Cuervito, I'm going to step out for a bit of air; is that alright?" Bane gave a possessive caress to Crane's nape, who was still too enchanted by the formulas he was inspecting but hummed a yes. "I'll wait for you outside, beloved."

\---

"Alright, I think this will be all," Crane chirped once his two cratesful of orders got placed onto the counter. "How much do I owe?"

The pharmacist just shook his head with a nervous laugh, sweat dripping from his forehead as he hesitantly addressed him, "Oh, Mr. Shelby, it's all yours free of charge, of course!"

Crane's lip twitched at the long not used last name and gave a tight smile.

Right, Tommy ruled Birmingham now, huh. 

He felt a bit of guilt for having left home shortly after Kitten, leaving Tommy as the only twin prevailing, but he honestly couldn't stand it anymore. He had little to no career options in that filthy city, and the thought of staying after his twins started leaving one by one made him physically sick. It's not like they were perfect siblings, but he still felt a little hollow after each one left, and he dreaded to think about being the last one remaining. So he didn't even give Tommy the chance to grief together once they found Kitten's goodbye letter. He immediately packed up, got on a train, applied for university despite being only seventeen and getting in by all means possible. The only thing on his mind was escaping. He tried to reassure himself that Tommy could manage; he was always the mother hen in their family, even when mom was still alive. 

Crane gulped and felt a shiver run up his spine at the thought of their mother. Some may call him insane, but at least he knows by his awful memories of her that it could be worse. Much worse.

Her awful screeching, her blank stare, and skeletal hands grabbing at his thin shoulders while talking nonsense was the main force that drove Crane to work with mentally ill people. He first wanted to find a cure for her, but after she drowned herself, he just wanted a reason why. And he got utterly captivated by the world of psychology. 

Funny, how he was afraid of remembering the one thing that drove him to be fascinated with fear.

It would be too unfair to call his mother his sole fear when his father played a much more active role in that, but he would rather not even spare a thought for him now. At least with him gone, it felt a lot easier to leave his family. He couldn't hurt them anymore.

He knew when he showed up at the old doorstep that Tommy wouldn't be able to forgive him easily, no matter what he said, but his anger at him was warranted. No one wants to be left behind.

Jonathan chuckled to himself as he moved to the door to get Bane to carry the crates. He had the nerve the first few years to think that he was the one that chose to be left behind. Jonathan completely isolated himself from his family and found pleasant numbness in solitude. Until Bane came along and made him realize how having someone to love and cherish with his whole rotten little heart was much more pleasant.

Oh, how he loved his sweet protector more than anything in the world.

"Baney baby?" Crane chirped as he stepped outside, looking around the street for his husband, but he didn't seem to be anywhere. And it wasn't like Bane could easily blend in a crowd.

Crane furrowed his brows, the London air fogging up his glasses, so he took them off to wipe them on his shirt just as he heard someone running down his street. He turned towards the source of the noise, and the tall, handsome man halted at the sight of his face.

He stopped close enough that Crane didn't need to put his glasses back on to see his panting face, and oh, he was hot; green eyes, curved nose, and slicked-back black hair with a few strands falling into his face, glistening with the bit of sweat he gathered from his run.

Crane swallowed. He reminded him a bit of Bruce.

The man gave a dark chuckle as he stepped closer and closer, almost impolitely close, but Jonathan wasn't the type to mind. He liked to bathe in the attention of attractive men, and Bane was probably close by; nothing bad could happen.

"Would rather skip the chase and get to the part where I catch you, little bunny?" 

Ah, an Italian. That explains the olive skin and the nice hair. Crane hummed with a smirk at the question, taking an appreciating look at the sharply dressed man.

"The catch is always more fun, don't you think? The fear becoming tenfold and numbing the victim into submission; you seem like you'd enjoy that." Jonathan cooed as he caressed a hand over the dark suit-jacket of the taller man. 

He noted with a single raised brow the wet patches on it, and as his fingers drew away, he saw that it was all blood. The man was covered in it, but it didn't show through the black fabric. Crane quickly concluded it was not his except for the wound at his shoulder where a bullet tore at his suit. 

Crane touched lightly at the area and muttered, "Poor dear, you're hurt. Let me patch you up," but before he could turn to get some of the equipment that he got back in the store, the stranger roughly grabbed him by the neck.

"Now, aren't you sweet, hm?" The man's voice was dark and condescending as he tightened his hold, shaking Jonathan a little for emphasis. "So willing, so charming and cute all of a sudden, not afraid of the big bad wolf anymore are you, babydoll? Or did you have enough? Do you want to get fucked right here on the street?"

He was reminiscent of Bruce even more now.

Crane was trying to pry off the huge hand holding him on the tip of his toes, internally grateful that sometimes Bane consensually choked him during sex so he was more used to it and could remain calm in the situation.

"Maybe if you don't strangle me to death before, we could discuss it, sir," Jonathan croaked, "But I'd rather you make an appointment."

The man let him go, but only to slap Crane hard enough that he fell painfully to the ground, landing on his glasses and breaking them into pieces. 

This wasn't his day, huh.

"Are you making fun of me, you dirty fucking whore?!" the stranger roared, landing a kick into his stomach that had Jonathan almost vomit his breakfast out. He would hate to do that. Bane made it taste really nice.

Speaking of his husband; as Crane looked up from where he was wheezing on the ground he saw at the end of the street a large figure standing frozen. His sight was fuzzy at a longer distance but by now he knew the exact shape of his beloved.

He started giggling as he saw him walking closer and recognized his infuriated stance, the heavy steps Bane made before he was about to beat someone into a pulp.

"So you are, you worthless little slut," the tall Italian man growled, pressing his foot lightly onto his cheek, "I'll give you something to fucking cry about instead, hm? Will laugh a lot less once I ruin that pretty face."

The stranger thought he was intimidating as he pulled out his switchblade, but Crane just looked up with an amused glint in his eyes.

"I love you so much."

The man froze in shock, staring down at him with wide eyes and about to say something but not before Bane behind him answered.

"I love you too, cuervito."

The Italian snapped his head around just in time for his face to collide with Bane's fist in a satisfying wet crunch. The hit was strong enough to send the man flying back a couple of meters and shriek in pain. 

Jonathan giggled again as he saw blood oozing from the man's nose before looking up at Bane, who leaned down and scooped him up in his arms. 

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner; are you alright, my love?" Bane's eyes rowed over him worriedly, caressing at the flaming handprint on his face carefully.

"Don't worry, Baney, I'm fine," he looked back down to the ground to see the remnants of his glasses, "might not be able to see properly for a while, though."

"Oh, well, I wanted to wait until tomorrow with that, but," Bane searched in his coat pocket for a minute before bringing out a pretty giftbox, "I'll give you your anniversary present now, considering the circumstances."

The stranger was gathering himself up, groaning painfully, but neither of them paid any attention as Crane opened the box and pulled out a new pair of glasses, much prettier than the previous ones with silver handles that had writing etched into the inside, saying, "For my little crow."

"Oh, Baney," Jonathan looked up at him in utter adoration before pressing a kiss to his mask, "thank you so much! I love it!"

"I love you," Bane's eyes smiled at him before looking back over annoyedly to the stranger that deemed it a wise decision to stand up and draw a gun at them.

"I'll fucking kill you," he panted, blood dripping down his chin, "I'll rape that bitch on top of your fucking corpse and then put a bullet through his pretty little skull!" 

Crane rolled his eyes and sighed before giving another kiss to Bane's mask, "Go get him, honey bear."

Bane carefully put him down to the side before standing and giving his full infuriated attention to the stranger, cracking his knuckles and his neck to prepare for tearing him apart, "So you've chosen to die."

The stranger shot at him, but the bullet grazing his side barely fazed Bane as he lunged at him and started hammering his fist into him full force. Crane rested his face in his hands and watched with a dreamy sigh. He loves it when Bane gets territorial rage.

When the stranger was coughing up blood and barely moving on the ground, Bane picked him up by the neck, lifting him to a height where his feet didn't touch the ground anymore and kicked around in panic.

Bane turned to Jonathan with the raise of a brow, "Would you like me to break his spine or his neck, beloved?" he asked casually, the way he would ask Crane how he'd like his eggs for breakfast.

Crane tilted his head to the side, thinking for a moment before musing, "He's not that important; feel free to break his neck, babe."

"NO!" 

All of them were startled by the desperate cry coming from the corner of the street. Crane rolled his eyes after seeing Robert run towards them with teary eyes and a frightened expression. Ever the drama queen.

"Please, don't! Put him down!" he jumped to Bane's arm, frantically tugging at it and sobbing, "Please!"

Bane looked over to Crane with a questioning look. Crane just sighed and nodded, letting Bane drop the man to the ground. Another man, who looked eerily similar to Tommy's boyfriend but more well-kempt and with less beard, ran towards Robert to hold him gently back by the shoulder. 

"Robert, don't get close to him!"

And it was a good idea because instead of saying thank you, the Italian stranger pulled his switchblade out once again with a manic rage in his eyes. Bane luckily was still there to step on his wrist and make him let it go.

"You fucking-," the stranger trashed on the ground, "How dare you-, how fucking dare you show your bloody face, you fucking snake! You're a dead man, Eames, a dead fucking man! Stealing my fucking Bobby from me, robbing me, I'll kill you!!"

Crane just hummed at the scene. So he got mistaken for a twin again.

Robert cried with a terrified look on his face in Eames' arms while the man kept screaming at them until Bane got too annoyed by it, and instead of his hand, he stepped on his cheek.

"Remind me what you said to my beloved again, when you dared to step on him like this, something about giving him a reason to cry, yes? Ruining his pretty face? How would you like me to break yours?"

Robert jumped from Eames' hold to drape himself over the Italian, trying to shield him with his body as he shrieked, "Jonathan, please tell him to stop, don't let him hurt Luca!"

Ah, the famous abusive ex.

Crane stood up and dusted himself off as he walked closer with an amused tone, "Are you sure you wouldn't like that, Robert? If I were you, I would be delighted to have my ex mutilated for life. God knows I enjoyed it last time."

He winked at Bane, who pulled him to his side with a hungry look on his face. Oh, they always have such a wonderful time when remembering that lovely event. How fucking sexy Bane looked as he trashed Bruce into a pulp. The fucker still can't stand or eat solid food.

Robert's whining and the arrival of Tommy and his man with his whole bloody gang drew him from his happy thoughts. He sighed in frustration but kissed Bane's palm that gently caressed over his face in comfort. They can have fun tonight.

"Tommy, please don't let him kill Luca!"

"Jonathan, hold your husband back from crushing Mr.Changretta's head, please," Tommy called over, and Crane just rolled his eyes.

"Fine, fine, it's not that important anyway," he tapped at Bane's chest, who obediently took his foot off Luca's face. "If you want this abusive man with a taste to ruin our face on the loose, be my guest. But I'm not sharing my protective husband," he hugged Bane close to him and nuzzled against his solid body.

Robert hugged Luca similarly, only Luca didn't relax into the contact, digging his fingers into his side and seethed, "I'll fucking drag you back by your fucking hair if I have to, Bobby, I swear to fucking God-,"

Eames slapped his hand away and gently lifted Robert off of him, holding him close again, "Nah, mate, you fucking won't."

Luca gave a mean chuckle, "You think I'll just let you take him from me? He's my fucking property!"

Eames protectively hugged Robert's shaking form tighter to himself, "No, he's a fucking human being, not a pet or an object. I'm not taking him; I'm reminding him that he has free fucking will. If he wants to go back to you, I'll not stop him. But he has to decide that on his own, based on what he needs, not what he fears."

Crane's brows shot up at that. What a wise, scruffy man. His morals were overpowering his own desires; how fascinating. He would love to have a chat with him.

Robert whimpered and buried his face in the crook of Eames' neck, mumbling quietly as his sobs wracked his smaller frame, "I-, I'm sorry. I love-, I love you, daddy. B-but. I don't-, I don't want to go back. I'm sorry, daddy. I'm so sorry."

Luca's face was overtaken by shock and grief for a few moments before he roared at Eames again, "I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you and take him back, whether you like it or not, and you and your thieving little friends can't fucking stop me!"

Tommy and his man stepped forward at that, "Maybe they can't, but the London Jewish gang and the Peaky fucking Blinders surely can," Alfie nodded towards Crane and Bane, "and that fucking bald bear is still hungry for that meat on your bones, mate. If I were you, I wouldn't risk it."

Bane glanced down at Luca with a growl to give that claim credit. Crane was going to ride him so hard tonight.

Tommy cooly added, "Mr. Changretta, you are given a choice here. Die here, or leave the country immediately and never come back. It is fine for us either way, but do make that choice quick; we're on a busy schedule."

Luca seethed for another minute, looking around himself to evaluate his situation before he got up shakily with a rumbling voice, "This is far from being over yet."

Jonathan comically waved him goodbye as he ran angrily out off the street, disappearing behind the corner, letting everyone take a breath of relief.

"Right, for all this nonsense, and for helping me get rid of that wop rat, you're all invited for dinner," Alfie clapped his hands together, Tommy rolling his eyes beside him with a fond smile. "Treacle already gave me a meet the family meal, time for me to return the gesture. Let's give a proper introduction to my little brother, Eames, who, as I can see, is already very well acquainted with one of my sweetheart's twins." Tommy's face reddened at the pet-name.

Eames gave an awkward little laugh, Robert's arms tightly around his neck and kissing his jaw feverishly, "Hello there."

Alfie frowned, "But where did you leave Eddie? I thought you were coming with the same ship."

"We were, yes, but um," Eames was trying to hold Robert back unsuccessfully from unbuttoning his shirt and attacking his neck until Tommy came to the rescue and annoyedly dragged his brother by the scruff of his neck. "Eddie wanted to look around the city before meeting with you, so I left him not far off. He's been all twitchy and nervous since we met up, and I thought a bit fresh air would do him nicely."

Alfie groaned, his eyes lifted towards the sky, "God help that dumb-witted bloody fool, he's probably fucking clueless as to where he is or what his fucking name is. Tripping on his shoelaces and tracking in the fucking Thames."

"Isn't he another brother of yours? Didn't he grow up here?" Tommy raised a brow at him, his arms still full with an overwhelmed Robert that wanted nothing more than to climb back into his new boyfriend's arms and gnaw at his jaw.

Alfie huffed and rubbed at his beard, "He is, and he may have, but he is also shit at taking care of himself and also has a God-given talent to getting into trouble, that one. Trust me, Eddie is right now having an anxiety-induced panic attack and lost God knows where."

\---

** We're lost. **

"No, we're not."

** Yes, we are. **

"Maybe just a little."

** You grew up here! How could we get lost?! **

"I haven't been here since I was sixteen; that's almost a twenty-year gap between living here and now!"

** You should remember these things! Not read from drawings! **

"But that's the reasonable thing to do!" Eddie whined as Venom tried to make him drop the map, "Stop it, don't come out now, people will notice!"

** What they'll notice is how miserable you act. Rely on instinct! **

"If I did that, we would never get to Alfie! He's not running his business from our childhood home, stop making me-, no, hey stop, I can't focus on the-,"

"Get out of my fucking way!" Some tall man roared with an Italian accent as he rushed past him, knocking Eddie to the ground with the force of it straight into a puddle.

Eddie groaned, his map now soaked by the muddy water as well as his pants. And looking at where the man collided with him, he also had blood smeared on him now. He knew it wasn't a good idea to accept his brother's invitation; Alfie will scold him again for acting and looking like a wimp.

** If he's mean to you, let's just bite his head off. **

"I'm not going to-," but before Eddie could finish his mumbling, a lovely feminine voice called out to him.

"Oh my, are you alright, mister?" 

Eddie looked up, and his eyes widened at the beautiful woman in front of him, looking down at him with honest concern. She had a lacy powder pink dress on, her hair framing her beautiful face in chestnut-colored curls, which bobbed as she leaned down like some princess, trying to help him up.

"I saw how that rude horrible man tipped you over, my poor dear," She cooed, gently encircling his arm and attempting to pull him up, "I hope you didn't hit yourself too hard, let me help you, handsome!"

** Eddie, she called us handsome. She smells sweet. I like her.  **

"T-thank you, it's nothing really, I-,"

** We don't smell good though. You'll repulse her. Get up quickly, you're making us look bad! **

Eddie jumped up from the ground with the help of Venom, taking the little lady on his arm with him who giggled, "So strong!" at the sudden movement. She sounded so cute.

** Alright, now try to seduce her. Do a mating ritual. **

Eddie felt cold sweat on his brow and tried to focus on the girl on his arm, "Thank you, again, Miss, haha, uh, I'm. I'm Eddie."

She looked up at him with those bright blue eyes, biting her cherry red lips and looking absolutely breath-taking. Eddie had trouble not letting his immediate infatuation show, but it was a lost cause; he could feel his cheeks redden as she traced a manicured finger down his bicep.

"I'm Patricia, but call me Kitten. Where are you headed, sugar? I saw you were looking at the map. Maybe I could help you."

** She was watching us, Eddie! She wants to mate! **

He tried to silently beg in his head for Venom to shut up, "I uh-, I was looking for the Aerated Bread Company? Um, my brother, you see, he works there, well, he actually owns it-,"

She gasped suddenly, "Oh, your brother is Alfie bear? Of course! You look so similar! Very big and hunky!"

** Your brother mated with her, Eddie. You're a loser. Let's bite your brother's head off. **

Eddie forced an awkward smile on his face, "Oh, so you-, so you've met him, huh? Are you, um, close?"

She giggled at that, "You could say we're like family, hon!" 

** Shit. They definitely mated. **

She leaned in close to whisper in his ear, "You see Alfie bear and my brother are dating! But don't tell them I told you because Tommy is shy about it!"

** The day is saved! She's free to mate! Unless she has another mate. Ask her if she has a mate! Ask her if she wants one! Volunteer!  **

Eddie tried his hardest to ignore Venom screaming in his head, but then Kitten took him by the hand and started leading him on the sidewalk gently. Her hand was so soft and small. He was weak for girls like her.

"I'm going that way too! Tommy must have finished getting shagged already by Alfie bear, so let's go together, Eddie! And in the meantime, you could tell me a little bit about yourself!"

** Tell her you want to mate! **

"I would like that very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this leave a kudo and a comment, tell me what you think I love to read about it!! And find me on Tumblr @abusivelittlebunny for more rambling, art and regular updates!

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it or would like me to continue drop a comment and find me on Tumblr where I post fanart as well as abusivelittlebunny !!


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